The trees bend and creek
Tops whirling like many helicopters overhead

A branch it breaks and arcs like a javelin thrown from above
I duck for cover under the eaves an animal again- very alone very alive-

Perhaps only to die head struck and pinned under an old limb or bough?

Same as the squirrel in the fallen nest, the mouse in the cat’s mouth, the bird blown out of the sky. Perhaps only to die headstruck pinned under an old limb or a bough

Buried in the earth, I turn back into the dirt.
From dust to dust again very alone no longer alive.
Perhaps only to die headstruck pinned under an old limb or a bough