if a tree falls and no one hears it,
does it rot slower?

does it claw at the earth, desperate to be seen
as something more than a pile of splinters?

does it hold its breath,
waiting for footsteps,
waiting for someone to count the rings
inside its ribs and say,
"this was once here."

if i carve my name into the wind
and let it drift softly into the air,
will it hold?

or will it slip between fingers,
another whisper lost before it can reach a mouth?