Departures: Chapter One Poem by Lisa Russ Spaar
Departures: Chapter One
Morning's mirage, disdainful & calm
as a mirror,
held the shorn bush that yesterday
flourished,
now lopped canes & a scant spitfall
of remnance,
confetti trampled in the clefts
of vanishing deer.
To touch its truth I punched my fist
into the chopped molest,
the boscage—withdrew my red sleeve.
Abstract that.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 7:51:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
