Jared Leake, Desert Layers, 2020 (Artist Website, Instagram)
Acrylic, pen and photo-transfers on wood panel
No one who saw
will say what happened.
Not the flock of hickory,
the shed letters on
their pale skin unreadable.
Not the rats sweating
in their mottled furs,
fixed black eyes like
buttons of blood.
Not the lone cricket,
ridged song of his legs
stilled by fear.
The five doves
trussed for sacrifice
say nothing, stoppered
hearts stiff as bottles
full of poison or cure.
A tangle of matted hair,
struggle coil of nylon rope,
and past the treeline
a trumpet swan calls
in vain for its mate.