Glen Martin Fitch

Potted - Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

Since seedling
I've been dreaming
on this shelf.
If only
myth might shower
on my head.
If only
I might stretch out
in a bed of writers,
scholars growing like myself.
What if my roots
had Latin, even Greek?
What if all day
my thoughts could see the sky,
my branches pruned
to please a critic's eye,
tradition’s trellis
lift when limbs grow weak?
No, I don't mind
my blossoms turning brown
But was I bred for this?
What I might write,
if I had inspiration,
shining light?
Will boredom dry my leaves
till I fall down?
If only someone
pluck and smell a word
I wish my fading colors
might be heard.

Comments about Potted by Glen Martin Fitch

  • Rookie - 0 Points Balogun Segun Gbenga (10/17/2013 3:21:00 PM)

    Amazing! I appreciate the beauty in works. They are really interesting. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, October 17, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, October 23, 2013

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