Not Yet In Bloom

Poison was fixed in the ground.

Poison in the pasture the ditches the dark woods.

A pear tree scraped and rasped against the screaming house,

The house surrounded by earth that was bare and sick,

Air full of that thick gray honeysuckle.

The poisoned ones fought in the branch and lodged in the mulberries,

They tried to kick the mud off their feet hiding in the dark woods.

These moaning children could not feel the rain,

With grass crossed into flesh scouring their heads.

The poison oak the jaybirds the trees touched by the Compson curse.

We were all poisoned.