The sun will tell you
it is too early for destruction
continue to shut the doors and
windows to keep the house from
coughing on your misery

Basket the ripest apples and set them
on your neighbor’s porch with
a recipe for pie crust          

Funeral his picture beside
the thickest root where
the moss refuses to grow

Rake a wreath of dry leaves
for kindle and smear mud into
the grooves of his carved name

Evacuate the birds and squirrels
say a prayer for the ants along branches
there isn’t enough time to save them all

Soak the tire swing in kerosene
swing back and forth against gravity
and light a match across the bark

Ignore the smell of burning flesh
let your lungs breath slow and
listen to the scream of leaves

– Karla Cordero