Saturday, November 10, 2018

A Thousand Oaks and the Tree of Life



thoughts & prayers
for Parkland . . . and so many more

seventeen more
black arm bands
on a nation’s soul—
yet the guns stand erect
as the coffins go down

NRA
blazoned across his back—
I look
for the blood
on his hands

on foolscap,
I write letters
to my Senator—
thirty pieces of silver
jingle in his pocket


~Atlas Poetica 32, spring 2018 




whistling in the dark

a meeting
of the Flat Earth Society
in my state capital—
looney birds roosting
in the Land of Trump

from the throne
of a naked emperor
torrents of words 
like day-blind bats
twitter across the sky

on the radio
the usual blather
about causes
of gun violence—
a wren burbles in the frost

worshippers
kneel in a river 
of blood,
lifting clasped hands
to the god of guns

bereft of words
I kneel and listen:
lullabies 
in falling snow 
the silent sparrows

emptiness—
the discarded bottle
in my hand
sings at every step
the wind’s low note

deer entrails
at the meadow’s edge—
I divine
the will of the gods
in a chickadee’s whistle


~Atlas Poetica 32, spring 2018 






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