All of the Above

when the first trees
whose home was the water
whose home was the sky
began to die
the deer did not know what to do

and so, their smooth heads wrinkling
their brown hooves beating the water
their brown hooves beating the air
they ran through the world weeping

until they planted the branches
and ran through the world
trees growing like memories
from the tops of old televisions
from the tops of old brown heads