strawberry giver

there's an american indian tale,
a story,

of a woman and a man who find themselves
in a heated argument one cold night.

the woman is so upset she leaves,
storming out of their small home

into the thick woods surrounding.
worried for her safety,

the man decides to follow his wife
into the woods.

he was unsure of where she'd gone
until he looked down and saw

small strawberry plants
in the shape of her feet.

where she'd stepped, a plant had grown.
so he followed the foot shaped plants

and found his wife,
cold and cowering in the woods.

he thanked the strawberry plants
and they vowed to fight no more.

they kept a strawberry plant
in their home at all times

to remind each other
of that horrible night.

and so, this particular tribe
of american indians

who believe this story
keep strawberry plants in their homes

to keep from fighting.

in my dream, i emerged
as a monster made of strawberry plants

i would hear yelling and arguing
i would follow the sounds

until i found the people shouting
and trade them a clump of my being

a small strawberry plant
in exchange for one of their valuables

i would ask them for something
that symbolized their love

i traded with every couple that fought
until i was made of jewelry,

photos and old appliances,
toys and tokens of gratitude.

i traded until i could,
before all the strawberries were gone.