• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 
 

Alive with green, the wall above
the copper sun striped leaves
is lined with the many intricacies
laid brick by brick, and spore by spore
in rows, from years of moisture


Rotting with a dignity
of which only bricks are capable
the wall bleeds into landscape much
as fact gives way to fable

While the dead clay wicks the water
from the tree entangled earth
a wick and fresh young sapling
is green like the eyes of the earth

1998

 
   
< back to poems
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •