Somewhere north of the floodplains
I lay buried, bones under shallow soil
shaded by beech and hickory.
I wander by the lake edge,
running my fingers through leaves
and needles along the other side,
looking for you.
Minerals stir beneath my feet,
fossils of trilobites and crinoids
and older things. In a flat place
where sand dropseed
grows up from the dusty expanse
of shale, you ask if I betrayed you.
The leaves stir, interested;
the paddlefish tremble, searching
for signs of currents;
the cardinals take off,
showing off dabs of black
feathered into red. And I crumble
the bones between my fingers
like lavender and release them to the wind.
