willow leaves obstruct the branches and as the water is sucked away the overhead green holds more and more, it is a smell today our feet stepping through the dying pond bottom raises putrid and natural smelled churns these two nearest skulls are now marooned not pillowed by their shiny changing limelighting water
they rest stuck in this stink mud losing some allure yet one of them is greening almost mossy and strands of bones look thiner the sockets larger, pieces worn off or broken hunkering down to leave. this ones eye sockets still follow me i know there are no eyes no macabre thoughts just still a being about it one can picture the bones and then the flesh and remake it into one of the sheep in the field, the other has passed to a new place disintegrate, reintegrate dissolve, more branch and mud, leaf and marshweed than arrival
is this the mineral?
of animal vegetable mineral which is it now?
a sheep with 2 lambs crosses our path to the water tank we are unnoticed again – a sheep tried to visit and rubbed hard on a branch near the last dead massacred sheep.
I walked the pond and in it still slowly going down body morphine I lean on a horizontal branch bubbles move feature and pop lunge glistens things are mulching and living in this swamp
I lean my head over and on other side the eyed skull is with me across the long journey of a festering pond it is a long journey even though it is 20 steps I’ve crossed a world, a lifetime a reason/season of death and stand in my temple held and sinking left heel going down and toes going up head in twigs shoulder
I am skulled across the soup divide both framed and serenaded with the loudness of near sheep, lost noise, begin, a lament for ancestors seems possible are the sheep circling u? Their own roundabout of yearning, finding, losing wool drifts like southern cotton