22. depressed, like land where the forest has been lifted
depressed, like land where the forest has been lifted, in complete abandon, grown soft with moisture & collapsing, a container of twisted industrial material, i must not disrupt what rests inside me, i wake to clouds that drift, facing a sky as hard as rock, my surroundings have been pulped & burnt, in the distance, the faint whine of a sawmill, the scent of wet timber & orange dust from the bigger bolder trees that once grew in me, now the downturned rocky flowlines of my face, my lack of will into life, my low energy, my slow haul into a death a million hectares away, most of all this complete lacking, others are going down along the ridges in the next valley, the split & crash of timber in distress, & a thousand species of wildlife, that fall within the system of a tree, i have a desire to stop their breakage, i work towards the distress signals, cool & temperate, low lying |