Band

After the Band

Blonde Hailey sings

            hard and

Lean like a

            saw

Rips through green

            trees,

White planks cut

            rough-

Edged and splintered

            on a

Summer day.  After

            the

Songs, when the

            canvas-

Gloved men go home, and

            the day sits

Still like a hot

            blade, an

Unkissed boy with

            eyes of

Burning wood

            drifts

Restless and tenuous

            like

Smoke or silence

            through the

Pines.  What a

            curious

Time for an

            ember-

Eyed boy when the

            storm

Strikes like a band—

            needles of

Straw lie quiet and

            dry on the

Forest floor, thunder

            lines

Crouch in the sky

            like

Unplayed chords, hard

            beads of

Rain fall unchained

            from the

Clouds, the

            lightening

Hums a saw-toothed song,

            the land

Awakes, and the trees

            praise

Fire in the night.