Atrocities of the autopsy table,
Cutting a corpse from its roots,
First incision to undergrowth.
Could identity be separated
From earth’s long anonymity?

Let’s examine integration
Before extracting information
From an eco-system and deep self
Confounded with the same evil.
In the seasons of a forest
Time of death is natural duration
Accumulating burial in absence.

Doctors dissect a living death.
They pick over a wild garden
And dance round a green fire.
With the irrigation of the remains
All hands are stained with dead inquiry.