yes
the sun had set
the trees and Morros
the
buildings hills and rooflines were silhouettes
the New Moon
a brilliant silver cuticle
arched over the charcoal disc of
the remaining moon a shaggy palm shines pale ochre
and green against encroaching
night
lit from within
Age possesses its own light
and this palm had sprouted and
been there before the Chinese camped to work at the
White Mans railroad and
commerce
it was there when Indians passed
to trade their
fish seashells and pottery with other tribes and with the religious
Spanish and Mexicans
inside its hoary head barely ever raked or moved by wind
those
things it witnessed and remembers and
perhaps wants to say
is
mute
its thatched corrugated trunk is laced
by head lights dappled by street lamps
no one approaches it
it hasnt and
cant find listeners
the listeners died long ago
the palm abides Time
it shouldnt be long before a frond
falls attempts murder and
its cut down
as murderers should be
and Memory is
1403, Twosday,
25 11. 14
