Sloth
My mother-in-law
says I have no more ambition
"than a sloth on holiday."
She sighs. "If only you were a sloth...
then I'd only see you once
a week—climbing down
from your dreamy heights."
She can't forgive me for carrying
her only child off.
She sneers at my clothes
as if she were the CEO of Prada--
and me the heavy guy in a Dead t-shirt
lifting her garbage can by the curb.
"Do you think you can cut your toenails?"
she winces, disgusted
at my fungus growing feet.
If I approach she thrusts her arm out--
to “Stop”. Is she afraid
that if she touches me
a thousand moths will fly out
of my grungy coat?
She had such high hopes
for her daughter marrying
an engineer, a doctor, someone else...
Who wants a dirty
arborist for a son-in-law?
The day I trim her trees,
lopping branches off,
feeding leaves and bark
into a wood chipper, even
then she grinds her teeth
like a chainsaw. But at least
she doesn’t complain…why?
I do it for free. Slowly I climb
again up through the branches,
escaping her voice,
breathing freely again,
as the light--like a hundred moths--
flutters up around me.
Sloth
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- Posts: 2154
- Joined: 18 Apr 2005, 04:57
Re: Sloth
Hi Bob,
not so slothful after all
Michael
not so slothful after all
Michael