Today's poem is by A. E. Watkins
Blot: a) A disfiguring mark b) Obliteration by way of correction 2) A moral
stain; fault, disgrace 3) To paint coarsely.
The boulders like god-fists littering stubble-fields in March.
See this. Know what's submerged in the high-tides
of August. Whatever a father can't remove
is inheritance. This field like Norse waters, this
Still, need gets around, vandalizing the folklore,
our possible harvest.
We take our father's unfilled clothes
to make (not an effigy) a scarecrow
How does one bear credence to cross?
Just know there is empathy in twine.
Watch the sun's crown rise and tip,
We are not kings but scarecrows of gold.
I suggest this traditional murder:
When the straw-man doesn't stave, it helps
to hang a couple dead ravens from his neck.
Name them only if you think to, only if you'll remember
our lives like a day of moraine,
the boulders forever
knocking at our eyes.
Copyright © 2009 A. E. Watkins All rights reserved
from Copper Nickel
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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