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Like cyclops (with one eye), like octopus (arms that encompass),
the wound of lost elm limb (a bull’s eye to witness home playground),
stares down what would harm me, the sun’s rays that burn! Trunk’s strong branches
and leaves put a lid on sky’s depths like a beach binds an ocean.
Round scar’s stump whose seasonal rings all looked forward to ‘man-child’
before I was born; limbs bear weight as I grow, link my future
to history, nothing missed secrets can know, or love cradle.

What’s savored in treetops by youth can’t be touched with a ladle
And rarely gets shared with a friend, or some climbing, winged creature!
My Teddy Bear’s there, for I trust him with treasures I’ve stockpiled
(like sweets bees love keeping!) Cicada complaints (just commotion)!
Folks never look up, feel they’re safe, tune out leaf avalanches
when Fall comes each year (though leaves tremble in summer) with wind’s sound.
So flavored’s this silence; chords dance for our eyes! Taste like tapas!

A youth can be shaken aspiring to touch elm leaves cluster
though winds don’t disturb him, thin limbs flex with movement; how birds feel?
I’m higher than roof’s peak; still, marvel how older boys tackled
town’s tower for water; reached ‘top,’ and returned with their pants dry!
It’s boys’ cross to bear, for if war comes, you’re ‘fodder for cannons,’
at best, ‘grist for mills!’ When the child of a rich man fakes bone spurs,
you serve in his place. That’s how poor (who stay poor) serve the nation!

No class you belong to but skin (but don’t dare leave your station!)
“No class” if you stay where you are! Is a fool one who prospers?
Who prospers, deserves a reward for good luck, who abandons
his family, friends, church, and home for own gain’s my best ally?
If so, let me gamble, risk death by the side of one shackled,
who fights for his life, not to steal a friend’s food! Watch Trump’s news reel!
A fool's on the hill! Let me fight for the Indians, screw Custer!


Brian Johnston
21st of September in 2020
Poet's Notes: 
This wonderful computer art is by Mar Fandos, an artist living in Brazil. My poems and her art will soon be published in a poetry book for children called "Beary Tales."
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