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CHERRY TREE

The cherry tree fiddled like bored fingers
With the long and subtle clouds
Summer heat rolled like thunder
Out across the coloured field
And idly we rebelled against the values
That ruled the cherry tree:
For lies were lies, even then
And our bones lay amongst the cherry-pips.

When autumn came it brought a single
Electric light that coursed its way
Through the doubtful dark atmosphere
To the brown field. The cherry tree
Could not recoil, but only stand
And as the red leaves ran in under the door
And as our wrist-veins broke and spilled
Outside the field was rent apart.

The wall-clock, steel white, grew cold
Too cold to touch all winter long
We lingered long beneath blankets
And watched the lonely arctic moon
Or perhaps it was the arctic that was
Moonlike. Our minds were turmoil
You and I all uncertain in ourselves
We did not know if blood was red.

Then one blooming blustering sunup
Crack of dawn c**k-crow, suddenly day
Men who did not know the season
Came to us across the field.
Then we knew as sure as sorrow
Blood was red and lies were wrong
We sank our hands up to our elbows
In the earth, and drew out our bones.