Poems on Federica Garcia Lorca by Top Critiquers

Many things shall be said
once I'm deceased—  
maybe what I actually wish:

one hundred year-old elms
  grow blueprints in dust and ash—  
boney ringlets annually; listen
  then understand.  

Damaged grass bleeds
  green leaf volatiles, golden
copper across dry air—
a distress signal:
  self-preservation, SOS
  against inflicted injury.

Death breeds Truth
  despite how unwelcome its fingernail
picks your secret’s lock,  
  hidden down the chimney’s throat.

Accept his...