Observing, In June, the Premature Aging of Elms by Disease

Observing, In June, the Premature Aging of Elms by Disease

Even
the slow lindens
are in leaf now, their green
von Neumann machines moment by
moment

moving
them closer to
July and nights of sweet
musky fragrance seeping from pale
blossoms

to mix
with the white-hot
secretions of the moon
and become the cool aftermath
of stars

dripping
from our foreheads,
chests, and recently-torqued
spines to the sheets’ enigmatic
tangles.

Only
the elms remain
aloof, their canopies
thinned by senescence, limbs brittle,
bark dry.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Cinquain, John MacKenzie, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Summer, Time and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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