find a better branch
            to safe itself in
                                                            tin can buried
            with ring pops           crushes inside
            rock shawled in leaves
                                                            crabapple tree
                                                            bees at its heels
            a red picnic bench
            paint peeling off
                                                in the clearing
                                                voices cresting
                                                always                        that polka
                        a little boy
                        throwing up   green
                                                                        its mother
                                                                        peeled peaches
                                                                        the day it was
                                                                                    born
                        it never once
                        ran away from home
                        went in
side     in
stead

            slid the closet door
            licked the husk sweet
                                                shut the vents
                                                laid the branch
                                   
                                    remind her

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