thin green sap

Standard

Reshaping Each Other
Marge Piercy

We are differently shaped
with everyone we love,
sticking out here, receding
there, interlocking couples.

We grow roles as trees
extrude bark; perhaps
the real life is under
neath in the thin green sap.

I am the finder of things
in drawers; I make lists
and menus; I read maps.
You lift and haul and open.

I select; you reject.
You brood and I fuss.
You dream and I arrange.
You regret and I flee.

If we are yin and yang
it is in a crazy quilt
of push, pull and merge.
Strange as sphinxes,

common as goldfish, neither
alike nor different finally
but ratcheted together
in the gears of marriage.

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