chagall backdrop

It startled me to discover that you had killed the seedlings,
one by one, as each grew true leaves, the curves of frail stems lost,
they in the first throes, reaching for light, you in the final throes
of darkness, your roots tapped too deep in a compost of spite;
like so many little big bangs, what we’d sown sprung lively
from vermiculite and moss, small ruptures at the surface,
the promise of new days, the void giving birth to actuality,
the way it always was, heirloom beauty, thoroughbreds at the gate,
until you proved your point; I heard each and every one scream,
did you?

© Chagall 2013