I'm home again
in my old narrow bed
where I grew tall and
my feet hung over the end
and the low beam room
with the window looking out
on the soft summer garden
where the boys grew in the trees
here I grew guilty
and no one was at fault
frightened by the power
of every innocent thought
from the silent understanding passing down
from daughter to daughter
let the boys grow in the trees
last night I slept
in sheets the color of fire
tonight I lie alone again
and I curse my own desires
sentenced first to burn
and then to freeze
and watch by the window
while the boys grow in the trees
boys grow in the trees
t o r i p h o r i a tori amos digital archive yessaid.com
