unearth

tiny egg-shaped dreams
turn into relics of a memory pristine
of cicadas turning into moths
of wood burning, slow and green.
of musk spiraling into grainy sky
and flowers wilting bone-dry
A house tumbles down,
into hillock of nameless sorrow
a bird perches atop
in a comfortless stupor
and croaks an unyielding song
looking into pale yellow horizon
scraping little pieces of earth
to see a speckle of her reflection