---

i
prepare
the
squirrel
we
will
have
for
dinner

i
go
to
the
­church
of
autumn
trees

the
sun
weeps
russet
through
stained
glas­s
leaves
and
its
beams
dapple
the
moist
forest
floor

i
prepare
t­he
squirrel's
precious
spirit
for
its
travel
thanking
it
and
tell­ing
it
I'm
sorry
it
had
to
die

but
my
family
is
hungry

later
to­day
i
will
teach
the
strangers
to
harvest
the
corn
we
taught
them­
to
plant

i
only
wish
they
were
as
grateful
as
i
am
for
the
squi­rrel


soulsurvivor
(C) 7/6/2015