Berry Land

Berry Land

Carted in, up the mountainside,
let down slowly, placed on a riser—
the sculpted bust at times admired,
at times ignored by the local population
before they descended on foot, the donkey
loosed into the sun, when the lavender
again became safe and the churches receded
from war.
                    It is lost now, tumbled down into
the burgeoning thickets of lowbush blueberries
left to the swallows and blackbirds
that worship in continuous song, feasts
and the spreading of seed what is left behind:
their found goddess or nameless god
who abridged and laid out prone, decrees
for them this surfeit of blessings.