Harvey S. Mozolak
here carry the naked tree
be seized by his terrible task
African from Cyrene
wailing weeping women
like willows sucking up the Kidron
in the storm
blessed the barren hills
breasts that never sucked
the sky dry
waving
palms with plants
wavering
palms planting nails
that scratch the face
of the earth
and plunge into the flesh of God
oozing the blood of holiness
may his mountain
cover us
recover us
winter sticks awaiting
the stalk to green
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