Image for the poem love, like a mountain

love, like a mountain

a woman says I love you   as if it were enough

will she toil in the fields with me
under a sun that beats us like unworthy heathens –
will she take the sparse vegetables I harvest
and from that simple bounty, produce a feast

will she lay down her own sorrows
and embrace mine – the years of war that kill
the boy and resurrect him as a warrior, who
murders for each piece of ground that he conquers –
can she reclaim the lost days, the nights of madness
and drinking; can she scrub clean the gutters I’ve
slept in, when there was no other sanctuary

will she cut into me and remove the hurt that I carry –
the oldest lie is:  a man never cries

will she lay with me in coarse blankets, place her
tenderness and beauty on a sacrificial altar, suffer
my fevered assault, my rough hands and violent lips,
as I take my corrupt needs from her sundered flesh
and make no apology, because I’m a man,
I’m just a man –

a woman –  a Woman  – reckons the burden of love
she knows the sheer weight of it
and that is enough.

Written by JohnFeddeler
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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