Who am I
Drops from the tree
Like an apple
Or a tear from the eye
Round and clear
But still
Holding the querent
Until it bursts
The heart that wants to see
And cries out while dying
No!
Fists clenched in a dumb roar
Against the sky
The echo of whose call
Across the canyon
Leaves
Its empty husk
On the calloused ground
Beneath its feet