Wild woods rise on
pale hillsides, trunks
stripped of bark and
branches felled
by forgotten storms.
Volunteer hackberries
sheared down to roots,
gooseberry vines and
thorns cut and piled,
all that defined
its wild nature
turns to smoke
and ash, now rows
of straight blank
trees I can walk
beneath, still unable
to see the stars for all
those embracing leaves.
Bionote
Richard Dinges, Jr. lives and works by a pond among trees and grasland, along with his wife, two dogs, three cats, and six chickens. MockingHeart Review, The Journal, WINK, Wild Violets, and Exacting Clam most recently accepted his poems for their publications.
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