Sylvan Burial

Prickled by the bemoaning of people
she harkens to the woods.

Sticks caressing one another, meaty light
plattering onto the diamond leaves,

a call from a bird’s cone, lit with song,
the hum, the windy drome agape in dust,

soil strumming the roots she decides
to say goodbye, to dump

her closet like a casket. She places
the skeleton of cultured, cured dreams

into the tomb, closes up.
It’s a graceful thump; the black water

fills the depression, and she walks
over the surface of the pond,

spills a litany onto the shimmering roof.
All’s quiet in her world.

3 thoughts on “Sylvan Burial

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s