Wake For An Alder Tree

I heard the clangorous salvo, heard its joints pivot and shear, the hips of thick branches crumble as it folded into the night. There was a fibrous unclasping. The ground flew up over its rebounding shadow. This morning thigh deep in foliage and catkins, I listen. There are death throes, a green surf ripples, rustling whispers. Leafy mouths tremble. Bark lips rattle and curl. Vowels drum in burnt cavities. It seems the suddenness of death takes time, It needs a Requiem Mass of murmurs to explain what the moment did.