Child-hood
-//- Now I seeThey’ve cut down My apple tree. And that pine, it was mine:It’s shadow, at night, frightened me.Yet, it glistened with sap-shineAnd blistered perfume in the sun. I press on, remembering. I’m now in sight of the house:Trim is deceptiveAnd siding is fleeting.They ripped up our rhodiesAnd drenched ’em in concrete. Down the streetSome windows are boardedStill others, reopened.The meth-den seemsRespectable now –Smart colors and clean.In the heart of it, once,Lay a woman, asleep,Or, so she seemed to…