Tending

Tending. 

Basil flowers in December despite winter’s glacial swell.

A testimonial she audaciously tills.

Seasons rearrange themselves

one man turns left into a thicket, while the other men cross at the road.

one woman reads Camus on a bus after sundown. Her hair is sweaty; eyes heavy. 

one child cries; the courtyard cries. No one is there to hear. They’ve all gone to work.

I am the only witness; and I am invisible.

Full moon and I am upside-down. 

I lit a candle I will only see; still men peer in through holes in the walls.

I can feel their forever justice.

A thousand sorries spoken by mouths of plump lipped angels; their heads slung like rubber bands.

To devils in disguise who douse themselves in bourbon and light matches to the sky.

Fire once. Fire twice. Fire your mouths off at once! 

Talking once. Talking twice. A silent lullaby of lies. 

Sitting in gardens of Juniper and sage wet by years of rain. 

I wonder where the man once went walking into the thicket there

I wonder if he even wept for the children and the bread

missing out on tea. missing out on justice. 

He left it all to Juniper, and years wet by rain.  

Tending.

Cactus flowers in July unfurling hot tin heat. 

A testimonial she audaciously tills.

I am the only witness; and I am invisible.