Poetry

Rosalind, Later


Rosalind, Later
 
It seems to me now
I was happiest in Arden,
teasing him, boy with a boy,
equal with equal.
Even though I was relieved
to be back in girl’s clothes,
and thrilled to be married,
lover with lover,
I still miss the greenwood.
He was so charmingly stupid
in bygone days.
Now he’s too dignified
ever to admit I’m the smart one.
Celia would say that a wife
must lose her illusions.
It’s true I suppose, but I wish
he would still let me tease him.
Each night I tell my daughters
tales of the greenwood.
I’m hoping they’ll run away young.