[Originally published in the now-defunct “zine” Message in a Bottle.]
In the restaurant of ancient trees
In the restaurant of dried leaves
In the restaurant of creased skin
In the restaurant of splintered bone
In the restaurant of littered ash
In the restaurant of blue hair
In the restaurant of smells
In the restaurant of alone
A tree is only as strong as its breath
For years and years it rises
Every spring it remembers what has been
Every summer it offers itself to strangers
Every fall it unloads all of its worries
A restaurant is only as good as its food.
In the restaurant of ancient trees
Leaves die off to wrinkle
Branches age into uselessness
And then one lightning night
In the busy restaurant
A hard crack reaches everything
And if you really listen hard
If you are awake and if you are aware
In the restaurant of extra weight
In the restaurant of somewhere else
In the restaurant please rest your head
| Copyright © 2020 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively. |
I usually don’t like poems that have a repeated phrase over and over—I tend to tire of that phrase and lose interest in the poem. But there is a magic you have captured in this one. I see the forest as the restaurant. I see the old folks gathering for dinner, I see the years falling as leaves, I felt the lightning, I felt those lying down for the great dirt nap. Thank you for sharing this one with us!
ReplyDelete