A Timely Wind

Earth continues her unerring turn,

sun persists on his unending reel;

in dark shadows beneath, roots twist & rot

among thriving baby grass grubs.

Two corpses lie apart, buried where

once mouths gave

resuscitation to tired breaths of demand;

yet all must be forgiven,

given over, spaded, sometimes cloven,

as compost grows rich on death.

Nearby this garden is owl’s large nest

perched careful in tallest, grand fir tree –

no one has ever climbed so high,

but all can hear soft

hooting at night, all rest

sighing under swift invisible wings.

The world is separate yet contained together;

there may be whisperings of other suggestions

untrue, careless, debatable.

A timely wind has arrived from sea,

who knows from what creaking port,

new pollen carried briskly to embed in new sap.

What’s over is dead,

owl hums in stricken sleep,

soothing downy babies hungry for life.

Tomorrow they’ll find little bunnies

in warm burrows, where it is not forever safe,

and tear them limb from limb –

not in desperation but in utmost pleasure

with a wild delicacy, worshipful and resolute.

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