Writer's Decomposeur

Writer's Decomposeur

I have no words, no images
just overwhelming life
living through me. Call it the universe
call it god, call it out on all the things that
it's doing wrong but you still can't
change the past even though it seeps
into the presents that we put under
trees and watch all the leaves fumble
and fall and gather on stone walls
in orchards and fields they duel for a place to
decompose back into the earth.