“Outsmarting the Tall”

I was once the boy
who shook the trees
of my father’s yard.
I held tight as I could
to pull, then push,
pull, then push,
and go faster and faster
until the apples fell,
the cherries fell,
the peaches, pears, plums,
leaves, blossoms, birds , bees,
branches, and then me—
with blistered hands,
bruised noggin, and sore bottom.
I was once the child
who shook the trees,
but not since my father
taught me
to reach and pick only what I need
or else climb higher than he
if I hear his belt buckle clamoring.

narrative poem written on 10-04-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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