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The FBI Agent’s love of the Trees by Anna Saunders

After Twin Peaks.

The Agent is in awe of the trees,

conical crowns piercing the storm clouds 1

His face is beatific as he rolls into the town

and sees the evergreens

enveloped in a winding sheet of mist

He has answered a call about a killing -

a girl lying dead on the beach. 2

Everyone is under suspicion,

especially those who say they love her

Found near the body - half a gold heart necklace,

a torn piece of newsprint under a scarlet nail

It becomes evident that there is a killer who acts at night,

while the wind soughs through the fir trees 3

Evil leaps from person to person, invisible,

yet the younger sister of the dead girls’ friend

still aspires to be a poet 4

The Agent takes such delight in the trees 5

After a day’s investigations he slugs back his coffee.

He likes it black. 6 and 7

1 Boughs pointing at the sky in accusation.

2 Plastic cocooning her body like mist.

3 And the water pours like tossed silk over the rapids.

4 And talks of the full blossom of the night.

5 As girls lie on slabs like axed silver birches.

6 As black as a night without stars.

7 As dark as it gets far from civilization.


Anna Saunders has been described as ‘a poet who surely can do anything’ by The North, ‘a modern myth maker’ by Paul Stephenson, and Tears in the Fence said of her ‘Anna Saunders’ poetry is reminiscent of Plath – with all its alpha achievement and radiance’.


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