Twin Sword Summers

I’ll blame it all on burning trees
and streams that cut across the knees
of waders with there hooks in something swimming.
Cork boards of old fliers bleached by
window sunlight spreading the exaggerated news
of how it’s hopeless to be anything your own.
A trail of pigeon bones leads right to their lost dog
with only one eye left alive inside its head.
There is an empty shed that’s covered with
the shells of dead cicadas, and now the snails
rule all the rest of it and drink in all the dark
fermented runoff.
A young couple drove for miles through
the farmland cutting straw out of the faces
in the fields to make it easier
for everyone to eat.
The landscape by their highway was just
so desolate and beautiful their longing
tirade fell away when they pulled off and walked
out deep into the nowhere.
The deer ate every leaf before
forsaken by the axis of the Earth.
Now they are cursed with twin sword
summers when the sleeping bright
eyed killers all awake.

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