It’s watching them all fall that’s heartbreaking,
she said, looking toward flowing blue-grey clouds
but not speaking of clouds. Watch them shaking
like willow trees in blizzards, quaking crowds
of them staggering, mute, too weak to howl
or even whisper, she said. How they fall
like willow trees ripped from earth, their stark jowls
limp with last gasps as they fall. We knew, all
knew it was coming, she said. You knew years
before I, didn’t you. You saw it in
their insane repetitions, your clear tears
blurring your sight as you told me. How sin
brings madness. You said they’d fall. Bent forms tangled
like wingless Icarus. Like defeated angels…
Roger Armbrust
August 10, 2020
