In the darkness,
the cold darkness.
There he lay
He who fed the land.
There he lay
In a casket of leaves.
Holding his hand out for one last time

In the night,
the dark and motionless night.
        There it laid
The squirrel who lived in the tree,
its red fur turned black.
And there it lay
starving, begging to eat.
Holding out its hand for one last time 

In the calm,
the violent calm 
There it lay,
the dead skeleton of a tree.
The tree the squirrel lived in. 
And there it lay,
branches dying, begging for light.
Reaching for the sky one last time