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Mood: whatev
  
their dried, flattened bodies
coiled on the sidewalk,
curlicues
like seahorse tails in a sea of concrete

i keep my eyes on the ground,
afraid of stepping on these carcasses,
once alive and squirming;
afraid of leaving a brown smear,
smudging upon my so(u)le --

but there are some things more important than fear

so i look up to the sky,
note the clouds sprawling across the wide expanse of turquoise,
see the bird my friend points to with an outstretched finger,
          like adam to god
          like that beloved extraterrestrial

what's dead is dead
i'll remember the worms, but
i see living