Eden

The path she takes is sparse, empty.
Overhead a few lingering aspen leaves cling to thinning veins,
only to descend to dusted tracks where life blood
evaporates and they crumble beneath the wandering souls.

The suns rays break through brittled limbs
that reach forlornly to the hidden heavens,
bounce from her rising chest to diminish in
the shadows stretching deeply to the east.
Her breath falls in icy cascades to the forest floor.

There is no rest in eve nor morning,
no peace in the warblers song, for it is gone,
and the air is stale with silence.
The horizon shows anew through naked trees and
she continues on her way, crawling amidst the shallow earth.

(December 1, 1999)

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