He falls like a velvet bird
And lands scarlet loudly
In the hole we dug for him.
The four of us struggle earth
Back to its sweet home
At dusk. No eulogy or parting word
But I would lay my envious form
Down to die in the damp, the musk.

They would as well. This much anyone
Could surmise. Their teeth are set
At edge, are bare and they can
Ring the salty scanning soil in wait.
All thought and breath lies underground.
Word has it four men turned to stone at dawn.