On the tree that never grew up

ON 

the tree 

that never grew up

because I never planted it, 

a cobweb swings. 

With it I knit bootees 

for the child who never grew up, 

the child I once was,

I put them on her feet and she races

towards me, throws herself into herself, 

we roll beneath the tree 

that never grew up … 

I pull her bootees off,

and barefoot   

I plant a tree for the cobweb 

I used for knitting.