Stillness remained
amongst the fallen cedars
after the fire
the crude saws

Hallowed ground
a call for satiation
and so from my body
I  remove a white shirt

There is no stir
save for that of my bones
crude inner workings of flesh
organs contained within a bag of skin

I root my feet into the ground
xxxxxxxxxxso wind will not bend me

Whittle my fingers to the bone
xxxxxxxxxxso branches can grow from there

Drag my back on the riverbed
xxxxxxxxxxso my spine is exposed
xxxxxxxxxxand that seedlings can uproot, find a ladder, fight for sun

From my flesh make offerings
xxxxxxxxxxso that salamanders return to the creek

My leg bones prop surviving saplings
xxxxxxxxxxso they become stoic giants, shading muddy mushroom beds
xxxxxxxxxxfeeding colossal birds with their fruit

And, once my sparse frame has been consumed
trees bow to the wind
my ribs will be put to use, making a shelter for this ceilingless chapel

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *