You could tell no one,
And it would come anyway.
You could run from here,
And it would still live,
Like a river below a house.
You could sleep all night,
Inhaling starlight,
And yet it would still be too late.
So I lay in your bed,
Staring at your bones,
Dark now, and burning.
Waiting for wings,
to burst through your shoulders.
But I am mistaken,
You take your poison
As your leaves fall off your trees,
And the winds rip at our house.
You grow thin and clear
Like the river.
We carve at your body and call it luck,
But a day’s changes mean all to you.
You see all the trees,
this unyielding one,
And you hear the blast of wind
That would have
killed it,
If something at the heart of things
had willed it.
