KLIK

Make Visible the Tree
 This is the Place of Betrayal.
 Roll back the stone
behind madonna blue walls.

Make visible the tree.

Above percussion of engines

from gloom of catacombs

through a glaze of prayer,

scumble of chanting,
 
make visible the tree,

its branches ragged

with washed-out linens

of a bleached shroud.

In this shattered landscape,

sharpened tongues

of sulphur-yellow bulldozers

slice through wombs

of blood-soaked generations.

This is the place

where Veronica,

forsaken, stares and stares

at a blank towel.