Monday, December 12, 2011

Treading Blind

image borrowed from bing

Treading Blind

Treading blind to the roots
The man put his leather boot
On the tree’s trunk
His hands were on his hips
As he moved his lips

Far up
From the name announced
The branches waved
A skein of lines and green
Too complex to be named
Too simple for thought

I shall make a picture of this, the girl thought,
using stems, petals and ribbon

Roots are not used for bouquets
And no one cares how flowers arrive
So long as they do arrive
Because roots are words
And making flowers speak
Does violence to them
Severs their roots
Into worm tongues

The bouquet is offered
As an apology
For the damage done
And no one hears
The flowers speak
They are cast
Down brittle
The soil

Mark Kerstetter

Posted over on his site The Mockingbird Sings

1 comment:

Mark Kerstetter said...

Please remove my poems from your blog. All of them.