I arrived at the body

by ALISHA BROWN

before the crows, but 
yes, it was dead

not long       maybe a night 

enough for the spirit
to squirrel away, for

life’s liquid chalk
to         seep
from the little body

the sleeping body

from the deep-dreaming
sweetly slumped body
into the moss-breasted branch
and      beyond

the hole in his back
was berry-red

big as an acorn

wide,       wide open to the sky

above, a spider
wove a funeral web

and I left

knowing when hands are needed
and when they are not