Startled

Ah, poor little guy

you woke this morning

with such big dreams

still weaving their way cotton

through your head

you filled your belly with cold grasses

and you slurped from the dew

free, nothing to weight your body

from the air, your feet from the dirt;

Startled, you started your run

a moment too late

maybe because dreams were still

cotton in your head

and someone impacted you

they split you centrally, like a melon

everything you’d held inside

was turned out, open to the world.

Now the delighted crows pick

at your heart.