Forever Up

Summer heat

     pouring off the grass and biting at my knees.

Wet Kentucky air

     a scratchy blanket around my neck.

The hills of the farm went up forever-

     too much for a five year old

And so, my father

     wet with sweat and red with sun

     would lift me to his shoulders.

My father

     whose memories ran rooted in that pasture land

              those piled rocks

              that empty house

On my fathers shoulders I rode taller than a young tree

           taller than I could ever be

Until my five year old patience could see the top

     and clamour down to run and beat him there

     wondering what took him so long.

I am no longer five on the outside

     but when my five and thirty year patience

     sees the top I only want to run

     but the distance jumps forever

     and it seems so long.

I can only wish I still had a pair of shoulders,

     broad and strong, that I could ride upon.

     taller than a young tree

     stronger than my roots could ever be

With the summer heat pouring off the grass

     and biting at my knees.

Reviews

[W.k.kortas]

Judicious and effective use of repetition...it's gentle, winsome, and highly visual, flows very nicely. This is a very fine piece of writing, eloquent and elegant.

[jaime]

Wow, I can see this vision so clearly. It's as if I was there. I've tried to find something wrong with this...but I can't. Another, soft one...more more more more.

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