Yesterday they were still here
and still eating:
That terrible non-sound of holes
appearing in leaves, trees, stalks of grass.
Worst, the sensation in the eye,
that the land moved and breathed,
that the mass of creatures was the thing
we lived upon.
This morning they were gone.
We sat beneath the remains
of the canopy,
remembering the forest whole,
and we held each other,
and looked out on the empty fields,
grateful for our unpierced skin,
for the silent air.
Laura Lee Lucas (she/her) is a VONA/Voices fellow and a member of the Horror Writers Association, and has received financial support from Artist Trust. Her work has appeared in Corvid Queen, Mountain Bluebird Magazine, Octavos, Black Imagination, Vapid Kitten, and the Dead of Winter II anthology, among others. www.lauralucas.net