The Rose Bush

(for Gordon)

i know i haven’t grown but

i don’t fit beneath the rose

bush by my grandmother’s porch

i couldn’t have grown so much though

i don’t see why the back of the couch

doesn’t hide me from my sister

the lightning that would flash

on summer days brought shouts

of you children be still       the lightning’s

gonna get you

we laughed my cousins and sister and i

at the foolish old people

and their backward superstitions

though lightning struck me

in new york city

and i ran

to or from what       i’m not sure

but i was hit

and now i don’t fit

beneath the rose bushes

anymore

anyway       they’re gone