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{a recent death} rob omura There was a recent death in my family: With grappling hooks they pulled down the battered flesh from the old oak tree in the yard where a body hung upside down for more than a week. Swinging from the gnarled trunk by his foot congealed blood pooled at their feet. Not much left of the beaten corpse when they found it – vultures had picked away the best parts leaving bleached bone exposed hollow sockets for eyes – his sinewy fingers stabbed the dirt pulled weeds from the garden. Shrivelled heart, cold and blue leathery muscle dangled from open rib cage (since the birds refused to nibble tiniest bit of it). a great tumor ripped out black bile bled over wild rose bushes below. Later his loving wife pricked her finger when she plucked a rose and though her finger stopped bleeding she fell gravely ill, and never really recovered. Silver moonflowers flourish now in that garden next to the old oak tree. when summer moon washes the yard in light and July winds bend outstretched branches, they hear his name whispered in the leaves. By light of the full moon the old woman next door collects stamen from ripe blossoms for herbal remedies and love potions (a cure for rheumatoid arthritis and other ailments). *** I'm glad they saved my heart, placing it between the nettles of a rose bush. sometimes, when the family gathers for barbeques my heart murmurs and I smile. |
