The bread was riddled with little holes,
Little black specks were moving On it and through it, parts were Powdery, shapeless, creatures grooving Tunnels, stumbling into each other, Blindly biting, the bread discarded On a pine-needle ground, it fed The chipmunk and the guarded Porcupine, the traveler saw the Snapping turtle, the suspicious Crow, the coming hundred years, The tooth marks of the avaricious Bear, the sniffing wolf, he saw The rotten loaf of bread dissolve, The lichen and the ostrich fern, The slow, windy dawn resolve Into light, the undergrowth, The vines, the nematodes, The men that tend the planet And walk along the forest roads.
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Yaacov David Shulman
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October 2019
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