Slices of Air

"Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs;" Samuel Taylor Coleridge Earth Rips different Not like cloth tearing, sharp, painful sounds Thicker cloth nêe bursts baritone harshness Ripping from earth, done solemnly, knowing greater calamitous unearthing is certain, feels like bursting Buttons, brief Eyelash Flash of shock, something missing, phantom pain some Describe My drying herbs, roots and all Gave up this way, by my hand As the 70' Norway Spruce Pine in front of 30 Rock NYC Slowly weeps tears of sweet sap Squeezed from constricting veins Machines surprising vast Vascular networks of life below Ground Forced abscission really Slowly dying, withering, shackled In stantions for all to admire in Spectacled holiday lights Politicians virtue-signal righteous Uses for its sublimated limbs Sticks of assorted stature for Sordid assignments... I'll spice my curries with my hand-pulled Herbs November 2019