unpredictable: the exact spot, the blades of grass struck by may lightning, igniting field and the oak kept company
by bovine brethren, bulls, cows, calves, steers and heifers, dreaming of fresh alfalfa and other happy cow thoughts.
first the tree lost grasp of whatever it means to be alive, from the top bough to the bottom root hair and then the cows after, all together,
like how when the old tv is on downstairs whispering some black and white western, my brother and i can hear the static whining until someone presses power,
and the house is loud for a second with new quiet before ambiance takes over: the hum of the box fan living in the window across from my navy pillow,
the whimpering of my dog fighting some fictional cat or a leash keeping him from playing with the neighbor’s creaky hound.