to live as you are able

the little housefly tried to warn
me of the jagged gears of time
and the spider turned as well
to me and spoke of years
of wind and water wearing
down the world as the cat
behind him said in muted purrs,
“this is just the way of things”
and looked up at the window
of our bedroom where the crow
saw his own reflection and inside
we said the words and fell away
ripping shards and shreds of skin
and then the spider spun the fly
and the cat leapt clawing
and the deserts spread to eat
the falling earth as it degraded
in its ending orbit as the crow
frantic at our window banged
and banged at his reflection
and the little housefly said to me
from his last embrace, “it’s time
to go and live as you are able.”