Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Trees

Trees.
Come closer.
I am listening to the sparrow sing.
December
can not bring me back.
I have thoughts beyond beauty.
The name of the Lord.
The dead city.
I am like them.
I have tried to befriend the past
but I can not.
It is still too present.
I push everything off my bed,
the eggs,
and salad,
and fish,
even the babies
pink and benign.
August is hot
and my head is the same.
One day I will marry the sun.
It is like that now.