is torturing a tree with a song about a girl
he met that morning and will someday marry
and have babies with she
holds the key to his heart to his
brain and he wants to die every time
she walks by.
Overhead the spreading branches of the tree
quake and shake with the unending
horror of it all pulls vainly at the roots
buried so far beneath the ground wills the dirt
to loosen wills the water to rise up
screams silently of freedom.
About Holly Day:
Holly Day’s poetry has recently appeared in The Cape Rock, New Ohio Review, and Gargoyle. Her newest poetry collections are A Perfect Day for Semaphore (Finishing Line Press), In This Place, She Is Her Own (Vegetarian Alcoholic Press), A Wall to Protect Your Eyes (Pski’s Porch Publishing), I'm in a Place Where Reason Went Missing (Main Street Rag Publishing Co.), and The Yellow Dot of a Daisy (Alien Buddha Press).
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