By Philip Berry
PROMPT — No one noticed ...
a murdered tree throws splayed roots in welcome
the grain revealed in a lightning rent swerves and curls in ways that made perfect sense in life
in the perma-shadow by its great circumference my boot sinks: the dent I leave will heal
storms will rearrange earth’s fluid disguise
at our ninth attempt the dog-legged stick catches a high branch among the naked & divided:
we leave it there for the wind to play on its asymmetric levers
an adjacent sapling’s skin is smooth it’s hard to visualize the scars that experience will inflict
what is purity? snow before sunrise
an idea
we find it shotgunned below
a dripping bough
pockmarks rimmed in dirt & char.
Philip Berry's poems have appeared in Lucent Dreaming, Black Bough, Deracine, Briefly Write, and The Healing Muse. Berry lives in London.