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oh, the impossible

By B.I. Kukla
a fish, made of water and breath
conquered the salty, forgivable swamp
and turned it into a lake of tears
raindrops cut through the granite stones
like it was but blocks of hardened air
flowers that sprouted under the rocks
spoke of malice of hillbilly frogs
and the blue above was all one ear
a little bird from emerald hills
flew through the firewall of past wrongs
to bring forgotten hidden manna
to nourish a dying bat back to its life as a bird
and set the fire of the upside-down hearts
ashes into fertilizer, venom into praise
screams of dying into trumpets of joy
of knowing what is lie and what is real
like tears, blood and sweat of now and here

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