shall I put

the stone

down

 

I found it alongside

a river

of a mostly forgotten

dream

 

smooth

rounded

holding the heat

of a swallowed

moon

 

shall I put

the stone

down

 

if

it reminds me

of the girl I used to be

 

though I am still

warm and round

I will not carry that

same business with me

 

though I am still warm

and round

the script is changing

and perhaps I will devise

a new lexicon

 

one of growth

 

i do not wish nor want

for that hidden girl

to permeate the bubble of

now

 

as she was drowning

 

shall I put the stone down

and graft a tomorrow?

one of heavy-headed

daisies, black-eyed susans, honeysuckle, oleander and echinacea

 

one in which the scent

and color of this woman

is new, earthy, sweet and bright

not dark

nor murky

or carrying the silt of

self

analysis

and the resulting

rejection

(yes, that old business)

 

the river

the stone

the weight

 

the memory

the redacted

girl

who dreamed of a garden

but had no faith in her

ability to grow…

 

shall I put the stone

down

 

and open something new

gather leaves

and words

and petals

and color

and

scent and

rainwater and birdsong

 

shall I drop the stone and

imagine the roots of all this new growth

reaching and wrapping their cylindrical fingers

around it

burying it deep

in the loam

 

shall

I

put

the

stone

down