Tribes

See these trees, aberrant-shaped imposters unflowering
And odd-scented beacons of my untribing and dislodgement:
They simply are; exist in namelessness sans significance.
The man, surrendered to the antepodean land; and
The sacred relics, dances, chants of the tribe are gone;
Long memories lost, dissolved in mists
Like clouds or scents along the seas and valleys crossed;
Forged reminisces, one by one as fugitive tears
Slid through the exile of a dreaming eyelid.
The tears lie hardened in the dirt like tombstones.
Seen from so far,
The faded epitaphs no longer move us.


© Rhett Talley