death / split bone / a fish vomits /
dream; heir or heiress, the yellow trees
are fatherless; I remember the troubadour
trees and their infant skeletons
his blood to each leaf
no seduction of the moon
when there was no moon
to run the drumming
of tree molars
and the caw of moon-eyed birds,
mind / both neither living or dead / kisses
the threads of freely fallen leaves
to the peach-trees; Deutsch-like winters
though I’ve never been;
a dead woman / a dead street /
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Written for the dVerse prompt: Take a photo of the view out your window and write a poem about it – what do you see, what’s missing, what don’t you see when you look out the window? What’s changed since this time last year?
I admit I cheated, since I am describing a photo I took while on a trip two years ago. It was sort of abstract with a fish that looked like it was vomiting in the sea.
And of course I’ll include it:
This is a much more interesting view than from my actual window. You just have to take my word for it.