Dysmorphia

It’s been a long slow swing
in retrograde through the garden
of my soul’s imaginary dysmorphia

There is a callous comfort
in my latent childhood dreams
which lull me through recurrence

Each is neatly parcelled
to tuck away the vicious claws
and hairy eyes of my familiar demons

A path of no return is visible
but I suspect it will lead back
to the root of the poisonous tree

and the pendulum motion
of the swinger because the truth,
the snake in the garden was always me.



A poem suggested, in part, by Margaret's final challenge in the Imaginary Garden: Artistic Interpretations, in which she asks us to contemplate the theme of comfort in the context of childhood.