even the birds and mice

I am left unanchored and alone
Just a small thing made of dust.
No better than birds or sun-bleached bones
Worm trails and river stones.

I am made of winds and grass,
Cicadas, mouse-holes, roots of plants.
Rivers, dewdrops, wells, and webs
Small things held in little hands.

Happy, angry, missing faces
Sad eyes and forbidden places.
“There’s no place I want to go but home
Where I am safe and well-fed.”
Well-said.