Nestless Bodies

We are on solid ground

With shoes digging into the soft soil,

Our heels are waiting to taste the roots

We have never put down until now.

The birds hop around our bark-covered bodies,

Looking for a place to build their nests.

They are mistaken

Because we cannot hold any more homes.

Winters will be rough on our shoulders.

There is no firewood to be found

Except for the twigs we drop that are

Too small to hold a flame.

We can hear the worms digging,

Tunneling under the roots, hoping to

Have us spat from the earth we are desperate

To keep our home, even when our

Nestless bodies remain out of place.

No matter,

We keep to ourselves and let the worms

Wriggle without a hint of food given

By our hand.

The birds still come around.

Our roots cease to be removable.