Walnut shell

I hollowed out the walnut trees. I stripped away their leaves. I left the shells beneath them with the smell of mud and atrophy.

And somewhere there’s a fire cutting loose these lisles of smoke that rest in evanescent trails and sink, the clement stock of wood that wasn’t mine and wasn’t ready threading piquant through the boughs like burdens fading.

So vain they stand, these leafless chapters stretched and brittle. So burn them, runs the epitaph, and empty run their roots. And nothing but the mud and shells to hold me.

I hollowed out the walnut trees for days that I might harvest, days that might have watered them, but now it’s sap that runs so thick. And though I try to wash my hands of days I’ve cut away, the walnut trees I’ve bled, they just keep bleeding.

#Paris #France


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s