The Fall of the Ten Thousand

The fig tree wears
ten thousand yellowed leaves,
each a mortal distance
from the ground.

Through the window,
I see another one is down.

When this war is over,
frightened blood-sick soldiers
will contemplate their deeds,
then count them all.

Through the window,
I see another one is down,

another one . . . is down.

October 7, 2006

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