Moored to a diamond laden lake
The moon asks her where she’s been
Lost in the tangles of time
She replies
The gardener comes to cut me down with his shears
Almost through the limb
I’ve been healing the spots chewed
That’s all
Moored to a diamond laden lake
The moon asks her where she’s been
Lost in the tangles of time
She replies
The gardener comes to cut me down with his shears
Almost through the limb
I’ve been healing the spots chewed
That’s all
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
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