Tax Time
Tax Time
I wish to report blighted sites where silos stood
One could grow a circular garden there
If there were anyone here to plant it
The barn hangs its perfect triangle
On an invisible nail driven into the evening air
When it collapses the triangle will still hang there
This the hour mice cower in the mown pasture
What are they afraid of?
The owls only want to give them wings
While death goes on picking white mulberries in the dark
Which wouldn’t be a problem really
If the bowl he was filling wasn’t yours