Wild Jack & Jill

 

You won’t see, feel, hear my soul

at any poetry reading

You won’t touch the beat of my heart

in any book I’ve written

If you want to know me

trust me, take my hand

lead me down to the river bank

to the kayak

you speak so lovingly of

and we’ll make our way

to uncharted waters

to an undiscovered island

where you will teach me how

to pitch a tent

how to catch, skin a fish

for supper over an open fire

your cowboy, this city boy

with country visions

 

We will sit around the fire

and read each other poems

for this is the place I long to be

the stars strung out like a long line

of Christmas lights

lighting up the night

no other human within miles

no other sound but the breathing

of our hearts

and the smell of trees

to lull us to sleep and the call

of the wild, the Jack London wild

stirring in my veins

This is the place I want to be.

 

 © Albert Woodbine