3
The dogwood is ready to let go drop
her coral pendants red, red, red.
I am ready to disappear given the slip
my kiss betrayed. Gone barethe dogwood's breathing out her heart
in leafrain muttering
they are her children seething
nation settling scattered far apartThe tree has weathered this before
militant stumps cheer her onward
drifting over the highway
over the sheer
poignard
goodby goodby
Henry Gould | Island Road 4
Contents | Mudlark No. 6