family tree

i remember
walking thru
the woods
at 12 years old
gazing at trees
after a fire
feeling akin
to the charred
slim corpses
in morning fog
it was how we all
felt beneath our roof
each of us
standing alone
in our rooms
stripped of greenness
scorched sticks
w/ out even a sky
while my father
the arsonist
lit a cigarette
and beamed in a cloud
of smoke
at his best work

Rob Plath, contrary to popular belief, is not yet under the jurisdiction of the worms. His latest book of poems Batter the Keyboard Like a Raptor Is Behind Yr Back is available from Laughing Ronin Press. See more of his work at: Read other articles by Rob.