The Money Tree
curled its verdigris fingers
in towards spindly arms.
withered
in my full-bodied
embrace. brittle
unredeemable. paper
thin shoots press
into unseasonable snow.
an icy rain freezes.
hope, this pale
bastard child sent to burn
in the tropical sun,
returns brown and lovely.
NOTE: The eldest - sent to France and then Belgium with a 600 dollar budget - emails home about poverty...her own. There are days when I remind her that The Money Tree died a long time ago. These are also the days when I find myself juggling razor blades to sustain happiness.
in towards spindly arms.
withered
in my full-bodied
embrace. brittle
unredeemable. paper
thin shoots press
into unseasonable snow.
an icy rain freezes.
hope, this pale
bastard child sent to burn
in the tropical sun,
returns brown and lovely.
NOTE: The eldest - sent to France and then Belgium with a 600 dollar budget - emails home about poverty...her own. There are days when I remind her that The Money Tree died a long time ago. These are also the days when I find myself juggling razor blades to sustain happiness.
Comments
Alas! such youth is wasted on the young
--jeff!
-- Sean