Stacked wood stands tall
Absorbing all sounds,
But the fall breeze echoes
One continuous line starting
With “Way back when…”
That binds us together.
I feel like a sister to scavengers
Of good earth searching for acorns
Knocking doors, turning corners
And scattering leaves.
Rushing in the rustling leaves
We are destined to knock the same door
Of entropy where your ashes and mine
Are alike; your furry bodies with shiny
Darting eyes and my raking hands
Decomposed, chemically broken down
And be carried by streams to the big waters
Of ocean where we’ll roar the warning
Of tsunami together.
Here, my sisters,
We get ready for the winter
To be in our separate dens
To keep your furry bodies warm
And mine warmed by the wood.
Year of the Rat