Friday, August 6, 2021


Yet again, an old tree branch 
has snagged and gored a 
plastic bag.

At first, 
from the ground beneath, 
you can see the two of them 

bend and thurst
and parry in the wind;
but then, 

they seem to marry 
and behave as one system—
an augmented chord  

that just hangs in the air
with no inherent urge 
to resolve, 

or the parent 
who has just captured, and now 
raises up her fretted child,

only to kiss
and forgive.