If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything.”
― Mark Twain
if we keep secrets from others
are we lying--in the grass snakes slither
and hiss as if to protect their territory
do we too slither and hiss to protect
the truth- as we hold a baby
not wishing any harm to come
can we try to let the baby
down, and place her gently
on the carpet, tethered
between our feet firmly placed
upon the ground, green
grass grows without trying
what are we holding captive
can we release fear's insistence
that if anyone really knew the blues
we waltzed upon- the clear frozen streams
would they wish to join us in the journey
known through skating and breaking through;
the ice is cold but stings us into awakening
the air feels warm upon stepping out
of frozen pond, as long as water
moves, and frost grows on isinglass
oak doors shut for another century;
unless, we, with care creak it open-
sailing down the hallways
ivy aside--pearly gates---not yet
we've got a lot of living left to do
she bites into the apple,
and spits out a half of a worm
not poison, she twirls a curl
between her index finger and thumb
not pointing towards anyone-
she decides, for once, to tell the truth
Kate Lamberg
8/12/12
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