Brent House



The violence of lightning striking pine downright pastoral in present time as generations gather on front porches to watch rain end
steam rise from the asphalt & prismatic remnants fall from fasciculus needles & my daddy always told me lightning gathers

around the edge of clouds so watch don't get caught in an open cab when a storm is coming I've seen red bark peel crown to root

seen stately pines splinter into pulp as branches spread to strike twice a gold bright as northern bowers & bury deep into soil leaving


depths neither sawdust ashes songs a mockingbird perched in uppermost limbs can fill even the hawk must abandon his lofty
perch as charges descend to devour a heart besiege a towering spire at the edge of the forest canopy topple groundward as horizon

tears toward the earth startlingly loud as peals of thunder roll a second third & fourth pulse hotter than sun & viscous is the gap

between hardwood & bark as sap running through the trunk heats to gas expands & explodes tears deep into the bole.




Brent House's Best Poetry Books of 2011 selections


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