The Tree of Wooden Clogs


The blackbird pecks at the soil.
beneath the Cross of Calvary
Butcher her while there’s time

The rings she wore on this hand
still nursing foundlings,
without miracles.

Cross yourself nicely.
in the lives of men
to help you breathe a bit.

Now close your eyes.
While you say the rosary,
makes the sadness go away.

He saw a woman in black
You and your thoughts
The coffin was shining and polished.

Times are difficult.
in the flames.
Do you feel pain here, here and here?

snow is coming soon.
all colors of ribbons
impossible and unacceptable,

He’ll need heavier clothes.
And lead us not into temptation,
For our dear departed ones

Babies come into the world alone.
Let’s go inside and weigh them.
With no bones or any shell.

The groom mustn’t see the bride
of your five wounds
under the straw.

Something is burning.
Even the Lord
Don’t waste the coals.

He only needs real parents
and to remember all the other miracles
Haze around the moon

This is the book that came
Watch your fingers.
Look how beautiful they are.

Come to the countryside
Then take care to love God
and then crawl up your throat

She’s washing down at the stream.
was there in her veil
She isn’t eating

You will suffer the same pain
We’ll soap you up good.
and keep your mouth open.


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