Nonsense

the cat leaves “my chair” and returns to “her cage.” i lower my glasses and watch her from across the room. she darts out and disappears into the tree.

turning toward the new growth, i think about the tree’s death. i wonder when it knew to let go, when ending became necessary for more life.

at the other end of the yard is a tangerine bush i named clementine. she bends under the weight of her own nature, slowly coming apart. and i can’t tell whether i’m meant to tend to her or simply witness.