Brandon Shimoda

[I was told]

I was told
that you were kind to us
once     flowering
skin in the grass
     

trunks stripped
vacuities in the pulp and prickle cell


offered us into the merciful forest
between wood and white garment
to cut from a single stand
a grave of wide refuge
where made honorary


cricket-of-lace
ascends the shooting candle in the pine
to sound the whorling bell


catafalque in fog

mountain emerald dead--

fallen in this terrarium