Sweeping across dirt, the cold breeze tugs at brown, waterlogged leaves. It rained yesterday. Small red berries, like bits of melon, glisten in the grass. Swinging up and down in a tree hollow, glossy spiderweb remains spiderless. Moss makes a home of each tombstone, green swaths of chlorophyll re-colonizing granite. Birdsong tangles with tree branches and their shadows as sun warms the dark soil of farmers’ fields outside cemetery gates.
wind seems to say:
witness this imperfect renewal,
this release of shared breath
December 11, 2020
Aidan Barger is an EcoArts Intern and a Creative Writing Major. See his full profile here.