An Anxious Time
I’m on the bottom branch,
trying to get down / the
ancient walnut tree is giant,
and I’m much too high to
jump / the ground below is
hard and black / I have a rope,
my only hope / I tie one end
of it to both front loops of my
extremely sturdy jeans, the
other to the branch, put on my
very rugged leather gloves,
and slide off slowly as I can /
I grip the rope as best I’m able
with the gloves on, but my
fall can best be qualified as
rapid / my acceleration stops,
my belt-loops hold, and after
swinging wildly to and fro
and all about, I dangle six feet
off the ground, alive and
sound / my wits do finally
return, and I retrieve my
pocket knife / I slowly cut the
rope and tumble to the ground
/ I wake to find myself in bed
beneath the cozy covers / such
is my dream just days before
the President’s inauguration.
Howard W. Robertson is a poet and fiction writer who lives in Eugene,
Oregon. He has published ten books of poetry, three books of fiction, and a screenplay.
His poems and stories have been published in many journals and anthologies and have
won many awards. His screenplay has received accolades from 40 film festivals and
screenplay competitions. See howardwrobertson.com for more details.
