Contemplative Poem Four

O true Brothers,
O true boys of my branches,
O true men of my heart’s tree,
O well planted oaks,
Drivers of my soul!

O only boys with whom I share toys,
Blackberries, and mother’s pies,
(and not upset my dolls and joys ),
Be raised!

O those who sailed the ship’s imagined veins,
O those who flew the paper airplanes,

O Subject of my happiness,
O Object of my gathering,
O Hunters of the deer,
O Partakers of the family meal,
O Listeners who don’t grow restless,
Read me!

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