Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Wabi sabi

27 October 2021

“Might be image of

Nature and a tree,” flashes

Instagram, precise

Aloe leaf fresco

Shadows self-shadowing self

If you believe it

Capable of self-

Expression trees now migrate

North to escape heat

Underground railroad

Stacked with living trees, clacking

Past the barking dog

Past stuck commuters

Past what was the village green

Before this last drought

Made kindling of church

Steeples and the ghosts of elms

On what’s once main street

Love what’s most fragile

The fungal interstices

Like train tracks that dare

You to cross: Black man

In New Orleans said he’d been

Arrested for it; paused, jumped

Between cars, over--

Tacoma’s Black Lives Matter

Signs, white neighborhoods

Warning themselves. Death

Is like judgment, but is not

Is category

Driven to extremes

By precarity: wanted

Soul mate with stubborn

Sense of self, sturdy

Sentences forget para-

taxis for rigid

Grammars: after he

Died she fell apart, after

Dirt there’s always dust

When he said ashes

I broke open like walnut

Into hemispheres

My meat laid out on

A table I got put back

Like puzzle, like cup,

Red streaks mark boundaries

Between shards, where the pot re-

Accumulates, scarred.

No comments: