Everything born and made is born and made

of the dead a million years of age-related faults

danger war hunger lust the extinct fallen stars

everything living falters is always on the verge

the cliff the edge of sudden of slow or now

of a fall from a high trail car cancer blade bullet

particle of virus lodged in the body gravity and

its petty defiances when I die throw this flesh

to the wolves the woods the birds lay me down

to sleep and do not pray for any soul to be kept

let the earth take what the earth gave in pain blood

and sacrifice let my body be another dawn another day

for some other creature let me succor suckle save

some belly pressed hard against the spine body hollowed

by hunger let me be feed for some nameless creature

and all her starving children let me live particular and

particulate ghost in this the machine of the trees