these letters dark on the crème pulp
are more seed than symbol
thousands die in the planting
before they can push above the soil
these green shoots emerge slowly
centuried in their spread
yet with every birth
every gentle thrust
of green type over the earth
the chance for understanding
this tender plant
deserves your affection
tread like the doe
nervous she may trample safety
touch with the tenderness
you reserve for a child
who has wounded their knee
dab at tears and blood
with the softest silk
for these young shoots
will inherit humanity
let us choose together
to leave it less torn less angry
less ignorant than we found it
Corbett Buchly’s poetry has appeared in Barrow Street, The Interpreter’s House, North Dakota Quarterly and Dream Catcher. He is an alumnus of Texas Christian University and the professional writing program at the University of Southern California. You can find him online at buchly.com.
