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Some Good
I could not be there when I was there,
So I missed the color green.
I planned my garden for homes I didn’t own,
And trips to places I hadn’t been. I slept in tents of trees and greenery,
And traveled in my land,
While sleeping in a compound,
Under tents which matched the sand. And when I could home travel,
To take the trips I had so made,
I slept under tree-top canopy,
But it felt like I had stayed. I could not be there when I was there,
Which meant that I could never leave.
So it took longer than I would have liked,
To remember how to breathe. I pay the forest back the loan,
It gave me while I dreamed.
I’ll dig and bury down the past,
And cover it with seed. I could not be there when I was there.
So it will be there when I’m gone.
And hopefully the wind will
Play my son comforting songs.