
Inspired by Larry Ten Harmsel
A Parcel of Sky
don't do much.
soak up
a single bird
aching a parcel of sky,
listen to oak nuts thudding
as the warmth of July
remembers October
and the pang of pine
rises from the forest fur.
don't ask about the way
she died, if the bruises
were from hard-crabbed apples
stolen from a neighbor's cellar hoard
or the clapboards slapped
from the side of the barn
the rent in her tent
will remain torn
embers from the last fire
smolder on
every twig
swatches of moss
Cicada shells
oak skins, spinning
from invisible yarn
from tree to tree
the hollows yawn.
By Reka Jellema
Copyright
February 14, 2015