a green colored death

it is the drying husks of an older town-
the river
sees much

and is quiet,
by the monuments

the dead know
much-

ask them, from rhode island
or boston,
what dirt he died with,
on an underside of a boot
or

the crease they
smiled at and their
wide-
open eyes saw the river-

it was light and breaded in the savannah afternoon,
when they died,
and

the plantation was named
after a tree.

today mulberry grove
knows if it rained the 19th of june-
or if the sun hit the birds,
as they flew upwards from
the river