Friday, June 16
MULBERRY TREE
While on my walk I watch a mockingbird
assail a larger crow & think, that's good.
It's good to see the unknown singer taking on
a titan of apostleship. Lately, I've collapsed
into a sadness with no shape or history.
No, no, no is everywhere, I wait for no, I know
the no is coming in its oily augur's robe.
But then I pass beneath the mulberry tree,
behold the smears of purple on the ground
where the heavy fruit has fallen. God I want
to speak beneath, to speak within, oh God
you alphabet of crows—preserve the tree
& mockingbird, the sadnesses that smear
with purple stars my anonymity.
(Jeremy Radin)