CANDY IN THE FOREST

by nancyducidenofio


CANDY IN THE FOREST

If you never walked in the forest
after smoking green leaves, or
connected – side by side – friend on
friend – smelling sweet sweat. . .

soft sweetness of soil – or rolled
around in high grass, removed
your clothes to swim nude in a
lake, picked dead dandelions for
a friend –
 

Then you will not dream about it,
or pretend to know.
 

If you never hitch-hiked on a road
where cars seldom traveled, or never
pulled pack your thumb, back to your
fingers, lowered your arm after a
car sped by, but smiled when your
legs tired, smiled when you were
hungry, smiled at nothing but laughed
at everything you heard. . .
 

Then, you will not dream about it,
or pretend to know.
 

If you never knew Whitman’s Leaves
of Grass – or focused on what it told
you. . .
 

Then, you will not dream about it,
or pretend to know.
 

It wasn’t a piece of candy or a
delicate slice of fudge, or a box in
deeper shades of yellow, with names
of things to come, but a vision,
a image of knowing and still living.
 

Then you will dream about it and know.

 

(C)all rights reserved  Nancy Duci Denofio
 

 

Advertisements