The Crowded Heart
My #3 for National Poetry Month
i sat upon your lap,
felt the wind pass through your curls
as you rocked me,
singing the old songs
in your old voice.
i didn't know then
that wind only speaks
to the very old,
in whose crowded hearts
there is little room
to do ought, but live the love
they have learned
along dusty roads.
i am not so old yet,
but i feel life pushing its way in
pushing out the fears
and anger which used to reside there,
so that once you are here
i too will be ready.
copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2015