as a leaf rattling through branches.
But think spring and new life
in abundance from what seemed dead.
Take faith and talk it certain.
Sing the hymns, concrete the ethereal.
Just stay well clear of certain trees –
the skeletal ones, bark peeled,
limbs exposed, all insect riddled
and crumbling back to stumps.
Or think a ship. Better still, think two.
One arriving, one departing,
off beyond the horizon, gone from view
but no doubt still existing. Raise your hands,
wave from shore and dance the tide.
Just don’t sink to the ocean floor.
There you’d drift among the wrecks
where fish make homes in empty skulls
and sockets stare at passing hulls
off to some unknown destination.