These Trees Were Illegally Cut

These Trees Were Illegally Cut


(A sign seen on I-94)



Stealing trees just sounds odd-

Imagine a gang of tree thieves

Arriving in big black Fords,

Hanging onto axes and saws

The way they would hold their wives.



They stole you.



This is the hour the ground exhales

Veils of fog,

Enveloping the remaining willows

(leftovers)

And unfurling its ragged edges to melt

The interstate into submission.



Then there’s me

And my clumsy car

Tapping out a tune with Vixen-colored fingernails

(the best damn steering wheel drummer to ever live).

So here I am again –

Me holding your hand without you knowing it –

And thinking about those grown men

(arbor whores)

Defiling themselves in the pre-dawn.



They were the ones who took you away from me.

Made you join them in their secret work.

Made you leave me in the middle of the night with

Something swirling and unborn inside of me.

Made you disappear.



Bags and suitcases rustling in the trunk

Made me

Realize –

It’s raining again –

Off and on for four days now –

Half-expect to meet Noah around the bend.



Almost opened my mouth to speak, but

Riding in my passenger seat is my

Brand new purse

(still clean)

Already heavy with burden.