Light and After

Beneath the bare trees

stripped to sky, and

smelling of dust, two old

hands hold, fold and refold

a thin sheet of earth.

'Where is the wind? And

why is the wind never

a tree anymore?' the hands ask,

folding. 'The bare branches

of the bare trees no longer

hold anything. All falls

through the thin earth.

Why, even the sky, ' the hands

say, 'has dropped all of

its clouds.' Kobus