the world is not
a long thing to have
but I was here once
floating in mother’s milk
I knew nothing
but the stillness
the silence of
a chapel’s teeth
then a god‘s gut-light
stuttered over me
I fell out of sleep
amputated by smoke
as morning poured out
its breath like a stone
the weight of a whisper
tripped scales of dew
sunlight drew my knees in
tongue sewn mouth shut
I became a silent thing
that eyes try to forget
how alone is this life
that a tree grew in my place
from a stolen seedling
who had died for a week
I became a bitter bed fruit
swinging from its branches
pulled like a plum
left to rot in the sun
like all soft things do
I became hard as
a sunflower head
burnt by the sound
of a voice that
grew wings
from my spine
I fell with the force
of my own gravity
like a leaf
from a tree
– Daniel Haskin
November 8, 2023