by | Jun 9, 2020 | Issue Fifteen, Poetry

The wind descended from the west
            To rattle the orchard trees.
Dogtags nailed to apples and plums
            Rang out like wine flutes struck
At the marriage table. The star-white blossoms
            Let go their limbs and laid themselves

As if for a funeral across the river,
            The gush of spring, the railing wind,
The ringing of the trees so loud,
            Not a one of us could make out
The nuthatches and cardinals who battled
            The wind to take their place
Among the stars
            And throat their song.

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