See me now – I am a tough, roaring
mother bear.
Some lost gardeners
are watching –
strange, lonesome ones
who don't see my wet eyes
or fatigue –
the green,
the black,
the darker green,
the limp,
the broken parachute,
the fat mirror,
and the wool.
Some macho man
will hook to me, skydiving tandem.
I’m not afraid of the ground,
the fall, the sky, or the wind;
it's everything else –
the no-named caterpillar,
all the weight
in the world,
my childhood home for sale.
I’m afraid of resting, the first
day of first days,
some new sound,
and all of the dirty dirt
on earth.
I am afraid to forever
miss you
like I miss myself.
I'm guessing that plant
is called
cat mint.
-- C.A. MacConnell
