David Lasoff Poet Narrative

My Cane

Yesterday, I walked the lane
Where once I lived 
And found my cane
Not yet a cane

But only just a dogwood limb
Barked and petalled still
Lying in the lane
Within a boy's dream

And I thought back then 
When fifteen years were all I had 
To make my cane a Moses staff
To walk through all the world.

So, I sawed the broken branch
And deflowered those pink blooms
And skinned her naked
Bathing her in good shellac

But I didn't know then
She'd be my lover to be 
Kept by the corner of my bed
She waits for me

To come home to her
For me to hold her
And caress her now yellowed curves
She wishes I would stay.

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