Jared Carter’s most recent book of poems, The Land Itself, is from Monongahela Books in Morgantown, West Virginia. He lives in Indiana.
Willows
A whispering that would not cease
rose up among
The leaves, as though to seek release
from ancient wrongs
That had continued, all this time,
unremedied.
I am but mortal, not divine,
I said, those deeds
Were never mine. And you assume
that suffering
Can have an end? The leaves resumed
their whispering.
Haunting, lyrical, beautiful in form and content.
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