tree fear
slowly, the wind lost its curtain
its long sorry drag over the land
drawing to a close all the sentences
that they started – all the long doors
opening like shutters and the loud noise
they make in this wind
the calm before the storm
filled with temperature and the claws
that separate this take and that are sharpened
by experience in the trenches
and the long straggly cloths that hang off his burly frame
he stands on the dark corner
waiting for you to return
to have another go
another attempt to absorb your
worried little soul
the barbed wire fence is not enough
to guard against the danger of the end
the long dark night she spent
shivering
seated on the wooden bench the sensi defeated
all the wandering dead by cradling a sapling in his cupped palms
– march 10 2009