a tree’s…..

a tree’s
gone prophecy of
 
leaves
 
and ore’s
 
premonition

cool inclination pulled
through branches
 
scabbed white when
 
men’s barn-shells
trembled as
 
    if
 
    on
 
    twig
 
    ends

men bred
grass and
 
all
 
the blade-while
their anatomy
 
   (though
 
   nerved by
   leather’s scripture)
 
lay
 
snake
 
still

star-charts &
sub embers
 
coal’s long
regal
 
lineage
 
the event
 
horizons of worms

when great
quiet
 
arrived
 
grass grace
held
 
an elbow’s stare
 
so sky’s
small fires
 
warmed
 
birds’ ways

 

 

 

Mark Goodwin

 

 

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