09/05/2012 03:01 pm ET Updated Sep 21, 2012

On Crying Wolf

By Don Share

I'm not going to live

it down, but I'm not

going to live it up,

either: Remember

when you took us

apple picking, back

when there were

apples, when there

was picking, when

there was us? Even
though I didn't want
to be home, I wanted
to go home, to wallow
in the marrow of another
awful supper-and-dessert
instead of knuckle-
walking through history
with the angel of
Death, who's all ears.
I tell myself not to be
ashamed that my bite
is my bark, because if it
punctuates equilibrium,
all it means is that
I'm crying,
but not wolf.

This poem originally appeared in Huffington, in the iTunes App store.