pines on the parkway
slowly recover from the fire (years ago)
and take on the silhouette
of those Peruvian palm giants
afflicted with some
invading curse
like democracy or capitalism
that drove
out the golden empires and cannibalism and subsistence
and god-king and witch doctors
from
the dry flat gone on forever land
and the ccloud soaked, llama trod Andes
in the flick of conquistador eyes and twinkle of their helmets