The Birch Y Perch

18 Apr
after the divorce
the stuffing knocked out
didn't want this
i ached for a do-over
to rewind, go back to the forest
holding hands as traveling partners

but not in the cards -but - resisting
yet the revolving headtrips- remote viewing
the cuckolding me in bed with the other
spread eagle in my intimate gifts
twisting the blade like a bayonet in the belly

walked in circles at a park for miles the vultures circling
pins and needles waiting for a call
hoping for a change of mind

but didn't come - the papers did - the done deal
gutted like a fish couldn't eat or sleep
lost forty pounds without weight watchers

on the river bank across the road
found a birch tree, a seat-like y crook in the trunk

climbed into the readymade perch
over the river and just sat, broken
teardrops fell as rain into the passing flow

the river sounds
smells of the riverside foliage
their music and perfume full of life centered me

every day the y birch perch found me sitting
over the burbling river repeating to self
here and now allow,
but the painting
of an angry tiger on the inner wall
swollen and hot

until the day i saw
a branch floating by
rotten and naked
followed with my eyes far as i could
the branch was carried by the river current
on siesta, in the sun
while the river moved the drifter along
the floater could only allow what is - the river
--could only allow
the inner wall repainted the river scene
with the caption - cannot do more
allow here now

a month gurgled by
a new partner
observed the river in the birch y
nestling next to me

3.7 10/10
© Brian Peter Hodgkinson
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Posted by on April 18, 2022 in Poetry


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