So Easily

I come upon a squirrel carcass

twisted in damp grass

beneath a sheltering oak, almost

no longer an animal, becoming

something else entirely:

birchbark, driftwood, honeycomb.

Its gnarled feet point up

the roots beneath point down.

My legs shine like ignorant beacons

pointed straight toward nightfall

so caught up in movement I forget

I could so easily not be here at all.