The Sky is Falling

Noises come in the dark of night

Lights bright inside; I cannot see out

Through the blue eyes reflected in darkened glass.

"Just a branch" humom says

Just a piece of a tree

But when tree pieces fall, I hear the sound of their cries.

Winter has come and gone and come again, all in the space of a calendar page. Sap freezes in the veins of the trees and the sky weeps branches that break under the weight of the wind. Ella goes to explore the dark world, peering through the glass as best she can.  My sister looks up from her nap in fright, checking for worry in the humom and finding only curiosity there; her sleep resumes.  But I...I cannot sleep when trees drop their limbs. Not when they do it with such sounds of pain.