she was told....
and
was shown
charts
of supposed authenticity...
' this tree...heraldic limbs akimbo,
fashioned of labial earth and celestial crossings
rooted in a reclaimed calvary of stones,
bore fruit
to be suckled,
nurtured,
dressed in wreathes and wimples...
and it is yours '......
she shook her rattle...filled her diaper...slept...
dreamed of Winnie and Eeyore......
not
of the blade
that had left far-distant cousins ungerminated...
when she awoke, there was Grandmere...claiming to be King Lear, again...
......normalcy had been restored
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem