Cynthia Mac Pherson

Once upon a farm

evening air humid with
emerald ghost green banana trees

church-fetid leaves were lush
elongated and motionless

we slept in that strange place
and woke to midnight lambs bleating

scared beating hearts beating
on the door the wind rattled and

called to our little girls
in the twist of the wind the cold

mocking monster we feared
some evil intention some force

sucked up in that twister
emerald ghost green banana tree

breeze that enters the soul
we covered windows hearts beating

thunder and lightning thrashed
we cuddled close the six of us

in the morning the lambs
lay dead; ewes were bleating bleating


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