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lone tree: nature communes in a dream-like landscape
Words by Jennifer MacBain-Stephens
Image by Julia McGlew
Lone tree: nature communes in a dream-like landscape
Never picture ready, Joan of Arc is also illiterate. A catnap under a weeping willow and branches are limbs penning the future on themselves: papyrus was cheap in 1430.
The Elm as dark sky serpent.
The Elm as ink challenged octopus
clutching eight styluses.
Deciduous beasts cheated all of history’s
haikus keeping them secret
inside initialed trunks.
Huge dinner plate
leaves are refracted elbows
stroking a soft shoulder,
hating a gentle breeze.
Knowing one is a good fit for a cause
is different than swimming with poisonous tree frogs.
French optimism floods the springs not with macaroons,
but mercury laden sewer water.
Now the conqueror of snow-capped mountains, tremors.
Who is she kidding? The beetles spawn, flip over on their backs,
and wave six legs in the sky: a friendly gesture goes unnoticed.
This vaudeville act ended hours ago.
Volcanoes surround sound in ashy doom.
Play this tea party out.
Flesh and brain cannot comprehend
such a placid Monet mise en scene.
Slice it with a butcher knife and it is a mere fragment,
no music to entice punctured ear drums,
no teeth and tongue parting
to sing along the Seine.
An embrace from the inside is all anyone wants.
Like females, lava has a love hate relationship with rules.
#Unreal #Poetry #JenniferMacBainStephens #Metaphor #JoanofArc #Compassion #Fire #Imagery
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