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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.



JohnFeddeler
Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
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