I loved you the way
the Porcupine loves the Pine Cone.
sharing shape and form,
pressed together for warmth
through the night’s chill.
But between my spines and your spurs’
one of us was bound to get hurt.
So I kept my distance,
closer though you inched
in the growing days.
We wore a groove
in the ground as our tiny legs
made plans upon the looming hills.
But in my heart,
I knew we could never reach them…
and I know we never will.
I miss you,
the way the Porcupine misses the Pine Cone.
I’d carry you with me if I could.
But being born of barbs and bristles,
it’s hard to shoulder anyone’s baggage but my own.
Soon you’ll be taking roots
and kissing thistles to the wind.
So you take the high road,
and I’ll take the one less traveled,
and we’ll see if it makes any difference
where we come out at the end.
Bump it with:
Robert Frosting all over the top of this cupcake.