To My Neighbor as He Downs Trees

Luiza Flynn-Goodlett  

There’s enough order, enough

concrete. The stumps you left

say, We’re all stranded here, won’t

get out alive. So, take these shears,

worn at the knuckle, snip under

a node, then place in water until

a life forms. This lay Hippocratic

is all we can offer: yes, do no harm,

but also, some good. So, put down

that chainsaw. The waste of your

lawn has given way to clover — we’ll

find a four-leaf if we search together.


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