Nature Doesn’t Choose; It’s Just Nature

Everyone is counting on their fingers, 
holding their breath, waiting for the next
creature to come out of the sky to devour 
them. Corpses kneel on the ground, 
praying to remember the last thing 
they ate or saw or heard before boarding
the ferry. Clouds bearing promises of snow
prowl overhead. Sometimes they are selfish,
other times just careless. Who said Life
is a dream? Close your eyes, but keep 
your radar tuned to voices in the ether,
or the odor of rosemary and cypress. 
A man fumbled for hours in the woods, arms
outstretched, following the voice of an owl.

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