(we are also the car)

We are the broken branches, splintered by the wind

We are the thousand twigs scattered across the yard

We are the enormous, unshakeable oak

—apparently we are actually shakeable—

that boomed to the ground, just barely missing the house

 

Uprooted

leaving a chasm of earth

displacing those who depend on us to live

We are the bird that picks up those twigs to build a new nest

We are the squirrel that finds acorns revealed by the fallen oak

 

We are the ancient elm propelled by the storm onto a car

Shattering the windshield, crumpling the roof

(we are also the car)

We are the friends who came and cut up the tree

While we were working a weekend shift at our second job

We are the firewood shared with neighbors and the warmth it provides

We are slices of elm for playgrounds and pathways

We are the people who walk or jump across them

We are the wind

We are the calm after the wind subsides

 

March 2018

 

(c) 2018 Betsy Rosenblatt Rosso |
please only repost or reprint in entirety and with credit given

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