By the Toe

The killed man is remembered by trees
they’ve seen him before
angels, pressed into the ground
their old roots see the new
in the old re-seen
these days, it tumbles back upon itself
only now from a different elevation
the trees have mirrors hanging
from their branches the
killed man on the ground had just thought
of the river and being
fished, he
looks at the mirrors
hanging, again
and sees himself in the tree
out of water smacking his lips
gasping for air

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