all

twenty-seven

My own dignity
Wounds me—
A tree that stood
enduring, so long,
witnessed all—
All

The man behind the wars
Deaths and money,
Deaths for money
The woman of claws
Her anger raked
At its bark every dawn
It has to stand, has to
watch, has to see, feel—
But never truly move;
To always still, to hush,
To subdue every dusk