
Sacrificial Trees
Upon their bodies I ink
portentous tattoos -
doomed missives
of my despair
On their flesh I preserve
effects and posessions -
boxes set adrift
seeking far flung land
Will I even get there?
Where is my place?
A life born fragile,
symbolically futile
like origami.
It is not my choice
again torn asunder.
Till time when I
too am embraced
and one in dirt
Where am I going?
I w(o/a)nder
