Sunday, June 2, 2013

Dutch Elm

pa  pA  PA Pa  pa
la LA Lu –song of an orphaned fledgling

The condemned are always easier to kill
than the blameless who hang around
to make sure executions proceed
without incident

Who would yield such privilege to curs
whose mother loped off in the dark
with pups sired under the moon
whose eyes were closed

or to the Dutch elm that shaded houses
bringing them together with parting
lovers in a shower looking out at us
with no windows

she was crouched between his bowed legs
her lips performing the mounting sighs
he was feeling not only for the first time
but forever

and after the tree was felled the stump
remained in the way of bodies falling
where grass grew higher than the roots

In the prisons of afterthought the prophets
have their heads handed to them
above bare feet completing her dance
in braille

One day the hands arrived with orange
flamethrowers and working at night
the misery began that never ends
for the condemned

We killed the tree with all its kindred
for the good of others of a common
source spreading too thin to survive
strong storms

(2 June 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander

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