when the shells are spent, <br />and the bodies lay quiet. <br />when the ravens full, <br />lumber in stillness. <br />when the spider's web is full, <br />the felled tree rotted. <br />when ants stagger in drunken delirium. <br />when the cat's claw is broken, <br />the window painted over. <br />and the name of the logs <br />forgotten by fire... <br />all that's left, all that remains, <br />the trail and the scent of the wetness<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wetness/
