Blame it on the trees if you thought
I’d continue to campaign for his dreams
and live off his land of fear verbed chatter.
Cause he’s not what he should be after all these seasons
of corn
and collards
and courvoisier
point the finger at the sidewalk leaves
and stormed cracked branches
that allow me to conceive a
Soloman like thirst for honesty.
Blame it on the trees
the bare December influenced branches that carries
everybody’s voiceless intentions
to a generation searching for a
Messiah.
Nikki Skies 
Yes! Fantastic poetry.
Thank you House of Heart!
Love it. Absolutely.