Beneath the sky - a tree.
Beneath its leaves - the earth.
Beneath the earth - roots winding down.
Beneath the roots - a body festers.
Maggot riddled, pulped, and forgotten.
The body had a name once. It had a family, and friends.
It loved and laughed, schemed and plotted.
It had at least one enemy.
But the maggots and worms do not care.
The body is a new kind of temple now;
a haven for the denizens that live in the earth
beneath the roots of the tree whose rusting leaves
wave cryptic warnings at the darkening sky.
Its tale and history - inconsequential.
© Benedict Durbin 2013
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