Recurrence
by Charles N. Davidson, Th M

There, at play upon the lovely lowland glen
Before the house that sits as home upon the verdant dale
Children squaring off to make the game---
Circling finger, pointing blame.

"The one who's it's inside the pen,
Take your turn to sit, cross your legs,
Place the veil upon your face,
Bow your head and be disgraced
In bitter shame!"

At twenty-one they walk the aisle---
Taking vow, pledging troth, she to him and he to her,
They lift the veil, press the lips, smack the kiss, and join the hips.

There, at play upon the lovely lowland glen
Within the house that sits as home upon the verdant dale
Birthing little ones, ceding them their names
Begins again the age-old game---
Grown-ups squaring off to make the same,
Circling finger, pointing blame.

"You did!" she swears to him and he to her,
"I did not!"---"Oh, yes, you did!"

At thirty-one they stand upon the posted porch beneath the gabled roof,
Theirs at play upon the lovely lowland glen
Before the house that sits as home upon the verdant dale---
"And what 'tis this we see and hear in them?"

"The one who's it's inside the pen,
Take your turn to sit, cross your legs,
Place the veil upon your face,
Bow your head and be disgraced
In bitter shame!"

Children squaring off to play the age-old game---
Circling finger, pointing blame.

---Charles Davidson
Copyright 2002.