Friday, June 10, 2016

Three Poems by Kyle Heger


A Torch

A maple has managed to
catch the last light from
the setting sun, which
throbs now through golden
leaves:  imprisoned, prolonged,
sheltered and shown off in
a burst of proprietary pride.
But, far from harmless, the
flickers threaten to consume
their golden covers as easily
as a flame does a paper lantern,
or the hand that dares to touch
it, and so the branch tips make
a point of holding their treasure
gingerly.



Narrow Strip

All it takes is the narrowest of strips
to kill a tree:  a simple ring of exercised
tissue just beneath the surface.  While
all around it, other redwoods survive
with great hollows burned out or deep
gouges running up and down there
trunks, this one member of the grove
stands slowly dying from one-foot up,
victim to a precision that can barely
be seen.



Cormorants

Just this side of cold blood,
cormorants throng the bluffs,
wings suspended flightlessly,
striking poses of crucifixion,
an eruption of the prehistoric.





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