So What’ll it be?

I was going back through old journals last night and found a couple of lines I’d written- the first and last lines of this poem- and decided to see if I could write a poem from one line to the next. Here ’tis.

 

So What’ll it be?

Your place
or mine or the ocean
in between? What language
should we use? Which words would you
choose to have me declare
my devotion? See, that’s where
you must be confused
if you think I’d drop it all
to follow in your footsteps
when you can’t even decide
if you agree with those three
words. I think it’s time
we had a linguistics lesson- you
must be forgetting
your mother
tongue- the words your mother spoke
first, the words that carry
a world, that wove your life threads,
that hold you even
in solitude. This lesson isn’t free, but I know
you don’t like exchange
rates, so I’ll offer you a deal- you pay
what you want, but just so you know-
here’s the suggested
donation: your heart or
resignation.

 

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3 thoughts on “So What’ll it be?

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