I saw a snag of red
Fluttering in a tree.
And it wasn’t a bird,
Though it wanted to be.
I could see where you’d torn
Your heart from your sleeve.
And my heart knew,
-As soon as I’d seen-
The bigger the tatters
The finer the skein.
The deeper the love,
Or more cable-knit the sweater,
The happier the birds are
To tear it to tatters.
Nests for another sleeve
Birds know how to maintain these.
And I wanted to pull it down
-Tear down the torn-
From the crabapple thorns
And drown it all into the sea…
Where the fish could ignore it
And just let it grieve
Brer Rabbit, my tar-baby heart commits thee.