In the valley of toppled cairns I crawl
amongst the rubble on all fours
stacking pebbles with the greed of parched dirt
yearning for rain. I curl my fingers around a
rose and yank, clenching my fists to feed the cracks
as roots leave the ground, the cacaphony of rocks
masking the thud of a lifeless heron, petals floating
to earth as i scoop with hands dyed vermillion
under the shadow of a new moon.
