Leaving
Ryan Gates

Drops of orange-tinted blood
crater as they strike the soft earth.
Their sanguine scent
filling the air with
coppery undertones.

The ground littered with ghosts
of flora that once lived elegantly.
I resurrect their elegance.
Defying gravity to move up
to their branch-homes
so they can once again
thrive in beauty.
Someday they'll do the same for me.
They'll raise me from my rest, so
I too can return to my eternal roost.

Passersby, being blind to their sins,
crackle the corpses beneath their feet.
The solid puddle of orange-tinted blood
becomes scattered on the pavement.