P(oem)-A-D(ay) n° 3

I have epitaphs to sell
death outlasts life in barrenness
where salt-poisoned rivers snake
in labyrinths through sandscape
beauty is a souvenir

I have stories to tell
unbelievable tales, fairy dances
falsehood spun to spurn eternity
but the songs of the wind are silent

outstretched over the graveyard
I stand tall and gnarled, twisted and proud
I alone have survived a hundred decades
my strong limbs battle the elements’ disdain
they leave shadows as vast as the horizon
my heart-shaped leaves wither twice yearly
the first are pale like the moon’s reflection
the second blaze like blood-fall
my flowers are like extinct snowflakes
death’s tears nourish my roots
they reach bedrock where dreams linger
and I, the last witness
may never sleep

I have secrets that quell
endless days of blinding light
like love’s destiny carved deep
weeping words pierce my bark
children die alone
generations of ghosts

there are no more epitaphs to sell
my voices reign in silence


the last witness
[2012.3.4…a]