She is the Maypole

She is the maypole
I dance around.
Rooted to her core.

All my selves
weaving, wound,
in and out the years

in some late dying
sun: the sound
of my hopping youth

to the sauntering age
of now, is found
gaily,streamers binding,

Love reining in-
us tied, bound
connected, nearing.

the totem of her,
cored in constancy.


One thought on “She is the Maypole

  1. Such tender recollections of the years gone by and still there as they were, always.
    An umpteenth wedding anniversary poem of a light, apperciative and accepting nature.
    Well, that’s the way I read it. Probably totally wrong. Again 😉

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