[Photo by "sippakorn yamkasikorn," on Unsplash.]
Ten moons of dirt
Beneath my bed
Brown blankets of leaves
Pressed atop my head
There’s an owl out back
With two close friends
That scream when the
Branches reach their ends
I’ve been waiting for them
The past few nights
I’ve been listening and
Watching the lights
In between the trees
There are things going on in
Between the rocks there’s
A compressed song
When I wake up
My fists are clenched
With fresh, dewy earth
And baby’s breath
I bring them in
Close to me
I let the worms
Eat all they see
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