The clock is ticking…
run, little one, run!
as fast as you could before they get you
hide behind the tree, and its leaves will shower you like confetti
dig, little one, dig!
ten feet below
three flowers were cut today—
Love, Hope, and Faith
gather up their bones
you shall cloak them with burnt umber soil,
let them rest in your chest
and let tears water them ’til you fall into slumber
bury, no, plant them like seeds
and tomorrow they shall grow
again, I promise