It’s hard for men, I think,
To watch their cherry blossoms
Turn into women with blackberry stains
On the turn of a season;
Life is hard for women.
We’re closer to the ethereal
But chained daily to the mortal
We never conquer completely our earthly bodies
Whereas men dare and scheme, strike, turn and beam
Can I find one good enough to take the lead?
It’s unlikely.
This much I know; men need women
And I need the unexplained freedom
Of union with one final man
Who still has one foot
In the pre-adult mist of
Dreaming.
