Saturday, March 15, 2008

Apple Tree

i crossed my fingers and wrote a song. to speak of things that were true and only seemed like death if you did not know the face. of things that welcomed you back to the dust you were made of. i call it "apple tree"

Black berry blossom tree,
Bend your boughs and carry me.
Black ice bottomless,
Bring me down into your darkness.

Black soil buried seed,
Break this ground that covered me
Black boat steady oars,
Sail me safely to my savior.

Bury me beneath your garden apple tree
By my beloved with bruises on his knees
Have you haste my friend, I hear them welcomin me

Black letters, take your time,
Write me barefoot, brave, and kind
Black coast, fishing wire
Cast me close I have grown tired.
*photograph by shang chanti. tree


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