... addiction ..., ... Applachia ..., ... Autumn ..., ... beauty ..., ... bee ..., ... blood ..., ... communion ..., ... country ..., ... death ..., ... experimental ..., ... God ..., ... humor ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... religion ..., ... the South ..., ... time ...

death circles

on a casual Thursday
sometime after lunch
in the vibrant hum
of some city

you die
you’re buried
dirt eats you
worms drink you
earth digests you

seeds fall
you fertilize
germinate
sprouts grow

plants grow
flowers bloom
bees buzz and
brush fuzzy underbellies
against your
pollen

they carry
you and mingle with
others, no chatting
only existance

you procreate
you ovulate
you blossom
you fruit
caterpillars eat you
birds eat you
squirrels eat you
you feed them
become them

under the same steady stars
you tend to furry legs
and bushy tails

you scamper up trees
hoarding nuts and berries

you run after dark
foxes hunt and consume you
your blood warms theirs
you mingle with them
you flow through their
beating hearts

your brood is born in dark
dank caverns
you nurse, you clean
you sleep
they sleep
we sleep

and die…

and start again from dirt

your spirit leaves this world
your life remains

Heaven is for the dead.

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