Tripped into sunlight
stone reveals itself
as fragment of claw
still digging at the spot
where it was abandoned.
On my knees
in rusted pine needles
and copper leaves
I finger its smooth veneer
and puzzle what attack
separated it from its body.
Above me the fragile limbs of aspens
sway in warm winds that suck
what’s left of hope
from bones of bent men like me
who walk alone in worn jackets
and muddy shoes,
wonder what will finally
hunt us down,
if any part of ourselves
will be scattered behind
to be found by those
who shuffle behind us
through desiccated debris
on autumn trails