On Poetry
I was raised by wolves
Invisible elephants
In the living room
I didn't have a Harvey
Of my own
I had words
I had songs
Those were the gift
The songs and the words
Some feelings were only addressed
In music
Words were play
I loved comics
As soon as I could understand them
My mother knew verse after verse
Of songs
My father played and sang
Read Chaucer in Middle English
As a bedtime story
They each sang a song
To the newly engaged
Ironic, acknowledging the dark side
Of marriage
Wish I was single again
When I was single
My shoes they did squeak
Now I am married, lord,
My shoes they do leak
Don't you wish you were a single girl again
When I was single
My pockets did jingle
Wish I was single again
When things were bad
Unspoken
Frightening
There was refuge
Songs and books and words
If I stored enough words in my head
I could be alone
Lonely
And still play