Abandoned at 4th Street

First Street
gumballs from the sweet gum tree
spiky brown cherries
as tough as a jawbreaker

Second Street
mixed greens from the house by the field
a garden grown for a tortoise

Third Street
birdseed from the neighbors
and mud pies from a recent storm

Fourth Street
ants swarming the street
as thick as molasses
as tall as man
chanting
yelling
i can’t breathe
i can’t breathe

On Still Mountains

echoes of a King
rustle like wind through the crowd
none are moved
none are moved now

on still mountains
we are the sole voice
low on air
we have one chant to sustain us

but all we can say
all we can think
i can’t breathe
i can’t breathe

echoes of a King
rustle like wind through the crowd
none are moved
none are moved now