P O E T # 2 : B   Z   N I D I T C H
Birch

The one birch
outside my window
eyesore white
of a dismembered species
the poet relates to the shade
of ice birches
every painful morning light
in a wintry gaze
as a sparrow’s colorless wing
flies in the invisible air
locked in crystal vines
hiding a skeletal limb
of an ivory flooded tree
the sunshine dismembers
any brief memory
of a seasoned refugee.

H.A.K.T.U.P.! #8 06-2000

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