Inside, they faced off
like well-matched super heroes
landing blows
that shook the house
but did little
to slow one another.
Their words slammed
into walls, splintered
door ways, shattered
everything of value.
I took my china heart
and shut the door.
Outside, I climbed the oak
I was too old to climb.
I pressed my feet
against her solid trunk.
I grabbed her limbs
in my hands.
I pulled myself
into her lap.
I climbed higher
than I should.
I could hear the wind
singing to the birds.
I could hear the grass
whispering to the worms.
I could hear the leaves
breathe. I found
what I was looking for.
I tucked my stolen treasure
into a moss-lined nest
built by the earth.

© Elizabeth Steinglass, 2014, all rights reserved

4 replies
  1. Bridget Magee
    Bridget Magee says:

    I got goosebumps from this, Liz! The contrast from the violent beginning to the tranquil end is brilliant. Love these lines:
    “I pulled myself
    into her lap.”
    Oh the comfort of an old oak. =)


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