cycle of life
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Picked thin from all the wait, all the hands that
Got gnarled before they could reach out—
Or, even worse, hurt somebody.
And Sydney’s wearing a dress with yellow flowers.
Shriveled to bone
allow myself to ash
let it rain upon me
sink into the ground
the soils' warmth surrounds me
the roots a nurturing hold
release into the stems
feel the fruit
Scattered feathers and wings
Litter the ground in small piles of forlorn flight
Discarded plumage thrown down
Melting into the grass
Shifting into mud
Becoming one with the ground it once defied
