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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.


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