An Elegy

to the noble
sycamore

that once towered above the forest
a king

now cast away
to a corner  
by men’s hasty dreams.

his fallen crown
stolen by the court of locusts
and where he stands
he sees their canopy
jeering
warmed by their enveloping, brick fortress

does he mourn
        his lost dignity?
or
is he relieved
        that he endures
  spared
while so many aren’t

however much that really means.