gator ride through the orchard (easter)

the tractor growled, and we flew down the hill,

twisting, turning through the trees

steering handle spinning as we snuck past the fence

“This is illegal, by the way”

the grandkids are screaming, half fear, half delight

that grandpa would do something so reckless.

mentally, I am careening back across that Arcade highway

the snowplow shatters us again! I snap back to reality

jolting, the grass is high and the road is rubble

the steep hill we are climbing, fast

like the road to Kidepo, soaring over the stony hills

swerving, sliding around in the loose shale

even the dirt matches, it is orange dust

and I am 12 years old again, home and free

after burning season, the grass comes back this green

and the ash leaves charcoal traces all over your white skin.

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taste

The body was felled,

the tree of life broken at last,

the fruit we tasted his bitter last supper.

as always, redeemed

again, returned

to this blank desert of horrors

to prove that there was a Promised Land

somewhere. Our forty years has not ended.

so we are pulled in two,

reeled in by the death, the inner evil

just to whet our lips with glorious water

that is blood, from the slain Rock

we drown in his death/we savor his life.