13.07.2015 Views

Poems - Michael Goodnight - Editor

Poems - Michael Goodnight - Editor

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In its thickest shade.The gods of the earth and seaSought through nature to find this tree,But their search was all in vain:There grows one in the human Brain.INFANT SORROWMy mother groaned, my father wept:Into the dangerous world I leapt,Helpless, naked, piping loud,Like a fiend hid in a cloud.Struggling in my father's hands,Striving against my swaddling-bands,Bound and weary, I thought bestTo sulk upon my mother's breast.A POISON TREE

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