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Table of Contents for Issue 10

This work first appeared in Gargoyle, issue #10. Please respect the fact that this material is copyrighted. It is made available here without charge for personal use only. It may not be stored, displayed, published, reproduced, or used for any other purpose without the express consent of the author or artist.

Offspring

Jacklynn MacInnis

Trees wave palms low.
They sweep across my path.
They pretend plumes of
reverence

for the king in me
that's passed.

But I know you, greenleaves,
your arched innocence,
that trembling branch
that begs so coy,
a shrewdness in your glance.

You bow now, to tempt the age old
question's whisper
in every tree that Springs caress:

marry, marry me? Your necks are
swaying with a breeze
that fingers bobbing hair,
lacing longings
as a man, a woman knit
to eager need.

But I'm no fool this year,
not this time, trees,
your feet lodged, grounded,
locked to heartless tombs.

Trees, I know you would root me,
crowd me with the gatherings of your mobs,
your leaves and leaves of tremors,
teasing hands that wait in me,
praying for
release.

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