Hard to be alive
in the morning
the sun bright at
4:30 am
the trees cut down
along the
river trail
where I run
mornings
who thinks the trail
is worth
more than the trees?
their bodies left
stacked in piles
the black water
bird flying over
left the smell of
wet copper, of wet rust
the marsh smelling of
candy full of
green and unreal
the first ripe strawberry
off the plant
that fell from the roof
the taste of
it glorious
and silver as blood
sweet and sour
and metal