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Backyard Cemetery
October 30, 2023
My hands grasp
at the dirt falling through
back
d
o
w
n
in the wind.
Futile moves, digging
deeper and deeper,
hoping
that she isn’t gone. Bones fill
the empty space
where her smile used to
lie.
In my desperate attempts
to calm-
my breath’s rhythm
like the sway of the trees and
my heart pounding in my ears
as the worm digs-
the mushroom that starts again
like the sun,
I was blindsided
by the bird swooping,
with a morsel
in her beak.
She will go on to feed
her children on
the gorged remains of the
Moon.
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Like a childhood pet, buried in an unknown corner of a backyard, this poem represents what it feels like to lose to nature. Entropy, as an unstoppable force in this world, takes and we can do nothing to stop it, other than appreciating the little things.