Shelter Awhile
        with lines borrowed from Mary Ruefle

I'm not looking at the pines right now
because all I see are hands waving at me
and I'm not sure what that means. Yes,
I like the pines. I also like the wind.
I don't like being told what to do. I'll run
later today because I'll make myself.
It will be awful while it's happening
and I'll feel smug when I'm done.
I'll notice how the leaves look a little
different along the trail than they did
a week ago. That's how long it's been
since I last ran. Leave me alone.
We can read by the light of these
autumn full moons but it's my decision
what. A bit of winding road.
The forest has drunk itself again
and reeks of pine. The sky pale
as hospital sheets. Distant sounds
of planets like remembered arguments.
The last time I planted something
so long ago I'll plant my hands
beneath a big flat stone in the yard,
in the place a tree once stood.
I'll grow into a tree. I'll feel right for once.

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Copyright © 2022 Christopher Citro All rights reserved
from If We Had a Lemon We'd Throw It and Call that the Sun
Elixir Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission