Not Far from the Tree

In the same place,

The same space

Where I once fell

So far as to go blind

With ignorance 

And shame, 
I did not then

Float down

Fall on lilting breeze from the tree to 

The dying grass below,
I was shoved to the back of the car,

Onto the floor, onto my knees

Where I was made to be supplicant
He sat up,

Zipper down,

His own version of a barrel down my throat 

While he literally 

Waved to other kids

Walking past the car

On their way down Sunset Street

To the party at the dead end…
Lots of ironic symbolism there

Which I was oblivious to

As I scrambled to understand 

How to breathe

Not gag on my complete self-loathing

As thick or thicker

As the flesh impaling my voice
You can’t speak up for yourself

when there is a “gun” in your mouth,

or can you?
But I didn’t – couldn’t – wouldn’t

and the searing, 

soul eroding 

Self destroying shame


Was acid etching paths deep

Into everyone I ever was or 

ever wanted to be.
So very many years later,

I returned to that street,

Supplicant no more

Submissive no more
Now a creator, painter, a weaver with words,

I have built up family of my own design 

Cut a space for myself

Within this community,

Reveling in the joys and even the hardships

Faced and shared,
Because I am choosing

to be more, live more
My fall 

opened the door

for my Rebirth – 
Not far from the tree

from which I fell

I am getting up again,

brushing off my knees

reclaiming my voice

to who I am and will be

which is completely 






4 thoughts on “Not Far from the Tree

  1. this is a really beautiful lyrical poem
    it is also painful and i am sorry you had to
    live through this even for a moment
    you are an inspiration to me

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