A ripe acorn, tannin placed on the tongue
communion.
Mouth is clamped shut, finely decorated rigor mortis
nutcracker.
Last gestures of touching and rain drop drum beat
mourners.
Placed faced east in a shallow enough Munsee grave
planted.
An unmarked oak never seen will split the skull, fenceless
memorial.
Turtle Island is never ours, she is entrusted for future
generations.
