06/11/2018 Nancy Schimmel hosted by Jim
Civilization
In the juncture between two narrow roads
The last fragment of a once-great circle of trunk still stands
Shaggy redbrown bark worn down
The tallest part upthrust higher than a person’s head
But not by much
Around the tip of this finger of wood
Someone has wrapped a telephone line
A redwood must be even slower to anger than I am
But as I stand in the road
It is clear to me which finger
It holds up
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