Shroud

Collect antidotes:
Bluebird flashing
On gray sky,
Where air
Is wet with wet,
And a redtail on a dead branch,
Echoes of screaming.

These divisions
Between prey and predator
Are difficult to draw.
Still,
Some risks
Are worth taking.

You always expected
Too much.
And once,
Ignorance was
Power worth preserving.

And what would
You not give
To be the fool
Again?

Sun-weathered fingers
Smooth down creases.
She stitches her shroud.

Wrap history
In black silk
And crimson linen.
Carry it to the river.

Lay it in a leafy cradle,
Near the watching branch,
By the water
That is everywhere
And nowhere
At once.

You’ll have to range
Far and wide
To find enough stones.
One at a time,
Pile them here.
A monument
To gone.

Find the strong grass
And weave a rope.

Tie it all together,
Quick!
Before she wakes.
Throw it in —
The deepest spot
Your arm can reach.

And let it dissipate
To be everything
And nothing
At once.

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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