Sunesis

If you have it, you get it.
You get this. It is to know
That by understanding this.

The typical cottonwood
Lives a human-like lifespan,
But with opportunity

To double or triple that.
This one’s gone yellow with fall
That some years goes dun with drought.

It will be close to solstice
Before all these leaves are down.
Bark ribbed as corduroy wale,

It will stay grey a while then.
A strong storm could bring it down.
Put two and two together.

It’s a life. It’s not clonal
Like its cousins the aspens,
Although its leaves also shake.

It’s a life. Not valuable
As you and yours are to you,
Not a story character,

A cause, a human terror
Specific as the bodies
Arranged in neat rows below,

In this small cemetery
Where it was planted for shade,
But you get it. And see this.

The Lives of the Non-Combatants

You could make it through today
And pray for a miracle
To rescue you tomorrow,

As half the world does daily,
Most without your sympathy.
The lives of non-combatants

In any major event
Emerge and end easily—
Smoothly, seen from a distance—

Waves heaving into being
In ranks to the horizon
Warships cutting across them,

Crosswinds raising them again.
And every wave is thinking,
Since thinking is made of waves,

You could make it through this rain
And pray for a miracle
To restore your former grace.