BEFORE FALL
part of the viciousness
of encircling men
vulturing her
at my expense
was repeated
near the hedge in parting corn
her resistance
of torn stalks
was nothing to the beaten ground
nothing to the exertion
the long pent ripping thorn
regaling her summer's circle of admiration
the strewn leaves crumbled
the com stalks moaned
too soon spent
at too great cost
a trickle of blood a thousand tricks
mid the mournful lament of waving ears
John Teitelbaum
