Slippery Roots

I could have fallen Stepping down the hill slope On the slippery roots Not wearing my work boots Just rubber-soled sneakers turning down Main. A new-balanced moment Walking back to my room By tenement house-caves A descendent of slaves Hammers his clapboards shut to shield out the rain and his pain. Not quite just like him but almost On my bottom Wet with a sore and muddy rear Instead, the familiar is different not near Packaged in new jeans and things to gain. This inheritance tumbles and rumbles Passed the times before rhymes That bygone old day The way my crimes pay My children and their children with stain. More slippery roots Like too much candy On Halloween night After all my fright Do I hide what's left in my closet and feign There's no illness within? I'm fine to revisit tomorrow My little dark place With a travel-smudged face To leave behind my unghostly presence in vain. Once there was fair dreaming Release from wretched remembering But now just the put-together-puzzle shackles dank And the spurn of spinning tires in a snow bank Out of time, missing the only train. Just slippery roots Left to not trip on My bags are all packed but the laundry's still damp One last letter brief needs a lick for the stamp I go to my strange land by plane.