Twisted Branch

I love most in myself
the things that have been crippled for years

the way I adore the twisted branch
on the maple tree outside my house

that does not leaf out until late in spring
and is the first to drop leaves in the fall

the twisted branch that I hold my breath for
every year hoping I will not need to cut it down

and it has never disappointed me
although it has frightened me

I love most in myself the twisted things
that recall their purpose at opportune times

when the way is risky
and there’s no turning back

I love these old tools
that sit in my hand so well

like a secret in the lines of my palm
or the secrets in another’s hand

About Tony Brown

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A poet with a history in slam, lots of publications; my personal poetry and a little bit of daily life and opinions. Read the page called "About..." for the details. View all posts by Tony Brown

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