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More poems by Linda PastanLinda Pastan | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments | Books by Linda PastanBooks by Linda Pastan

Something About The Trees

Linda Pastan

I remember what my father told me:
There is an age when you are most yourself.
He was just past fifty then,
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?

There is an age when you are most yourself.
I know more than I did once.
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
Only a single leaf had turned so far.

I know more than I did once.
I used to think he'd always be the surgeon.
Only a single leaf had turned so far,
Even his body kept its secrets.

I used to think he'd always be the surgeon,
My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife.
Even his body kept its secrets.
I thought they both would live forever.

My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife,
I can still see her face at thirty.
I thought they both would live forever.
I thought I'd always be their child.

I can still see her face at thirty.
When will I be most myself?
I thought I'd always be their child.
In my sleep it's never winter.

When will I be most myself?
I remember what my father told me.
In my sleep it's never winter.
He was just past fifty then.


Submitted by Jt

Added: 7 Apr 2002 | Last Read: 13 Dec 2018 3:17 PM | Viewed: 9434 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/4401/ | Viewed on 13 December 2018.
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