I want you to think big here
he said. The forest trembling behind him
like water about to brim
over the lip of the leak bucket.
Among them slipped
the fallen bodies,
the fruitfall of a season’s
second glance.
There’s a word that’s off limits,
but it’s the only word for it—
this littering of corpses.
The birch tips going pinker
just thinking about it,
going so twigpink
you could taste it.
All the stream could do
was sit there
looking freezing. And I said
oh yeah how big.
twigpink!! I love the hell outta that word, and also love how the two bits of dialogue bookend such a beautiful, brutal, and mysterious scene.
Love all of the music in this stanza:
Among them slipped
the fallen bodies,
the fruitfall of a season’s
second glance.
Mmmm. That’s what I said after I read this poem.
Loving the lip of the leak bucket! Dear Liza