What will he do, the sequoia living in the city,
to belong in the geometric skyline above the sea?
Can he compete, layer by layer, for a life deserved
against the structure made brick by brick, of blood?
Does he often cry, dislodged as his old friends
have been for so long, homeless among millions?
Is survival an option, for the giant without years,
who faces clones of metal and molten rock?
Attempting to breathe, bleeding a sweet thick sap,
how can Earth guarantee his daily meals!
Far from mile-long roots, unable to move,
shackled in rebar, concrete, and ill will.
Far above his cheap imitation of a false brother,
a single tear begins a journey to shake new grounds.
Fabrice Poussin teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and dozens of other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review and more than 200 other publications.
Foxglove Journal 