Bittersweet
- RL Mosswood
They call me bittersweet,
and wouldn't you be
bitter?
If every passer by,
every mother's child
called you poison.
Saw the elegant curl of your vine as a threat.
Recoiled from the promising swell of your berries.
So sure they know,
they've heard,
someone said:
you could kill a man.
Only I
know the sweetness that cradles each lovingly grown seed,
the energy
I've drawn from soil and sun
to strengthen my legacy.
My children will thrive.
Will be carried on wings
of those
who know better than fear.
and wouldn't you be
bitter?
If every passer by,
every mother's child
called you poison.
Saw the elegant curl of your vine as a threat.
Recoiled from the promising swell of your berries.
So sure they know,
they've heard,
someone said:
you could kill a man.
Only I
know the sweetness that cradles each lovingly grown seed,
the energy
I've drawn from soil and sun
to strengthen my legacy.
My children will thrive.
Will be carried on wings
of those
who know better than fear.
RL Mosswood lurks in the depths of the Pacific Northwest rainforest, where they dabble in mostly queer mostly fiction in an attempt to add a little magic to their otherwise mundane existence.
