As darkness spreads
and wind tumbles through,
I peel my eyes open
despite fear of the unknown.

Knocked off my balance
and I come crashing down
into my grandpas
favorite bush. I remember
the day we planted it:
him delicately placing each root
in the ground
and me stomping all over them.

Still lying among the bush
with wind forcing me
in deeper
I bat my eyes to be met
with his face.
Noticing every detail—

the over baked color of his skin,
crystal green eyes, and perfect artificial
teeth. I know as soon as I
blink the wind will crash through again

rearranging the leaves
and taking him back with it.