Under The Hanging Tree

It’s a while since I reblogged a poem from Jaye. Here’s a good one.

Chimera Poetry

I will stand and wait for you

disguised

in the covering dark

and in the simmering silence of the night.

Keep to the unmapped path,

listen for the restless song of the leaves

and of moon drugged bats and

they will lead you through the perils of this old and ever shifting forest.

I will be waiting at the bending

under the hanging tree.

Strange things may happen outside

but in the shade of the tree we can stay

and water the ground with tears of promise,

of borrowed passion,

and a moment stolen like a pearl button,

ripped off and clutched tightly

in a fist damp with desperation.

Who knows what may grow from such a spilling,

from ground that’s only used to blood?

Who knows what knowledge may be given to us

if we listen,

ears pressed against the bark,

and translate

 the wind speaking in the branches

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Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

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