but be sunny later
cold tonight but
warming by morning
I notice only a few
things about these
passing meditations
when a helicopter and
a dove fly over me
in close formation
exposing the shame
I feel for my diseased
pomegranate tree
whose fruit splits open
when it hits the bricks
a black mold ascends
from leaking pus
and white infant seeds
strangled in their
perfect beds spill
out on the ground
I fear the tree is me
I fear it will never heal
and you will see
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