catalpa, heart-shaped and boney your daddy died years ago, in redress of his mind, where I leave my fingers on the stone, and I’ll never see him, he is just a rock he is just a worm; you’ve been in my mind but never knew me, I tire; death is half the stradivarius of the birds and their strings of gut than it is mystifying or inbound to limb by limb and the shadow of their men. The root of rock tree limbs near Anchinia cristalis their moth wings in arias and woodland mincing and misplanted in raw-boned eulogy after eulogy and I’ve never known him this man of earth, of war and weedy cypress, lizards and their fluted skins married to the wind; phantom epistles from Vietnam fed by labored tumuli, plummeted fingers into the ground fall and drown, fall and drown.
About the Poet:
Ellie Onka is an emerging poet who has publications appearing in Visual Verse, Oxford is my Home Webzine and Spillwords Press, while forthcoming in two anthologies. She has many cats that consider her crazy, and when she’s not writing, she is losing sleep over it. Onka is the owner and founder of Lucy’s Works: A Little Writing Workshop of Horrors.
Ephemeral Elegies 