A kestrel orbits the Meadowlands
Beside the Turnpike.
A reminder: In the order of everything,
It is most likely the case that
No thing separates from any other thing,
Despite great evidence contrary.

The four-ounce kestrel, gliding on, powerful and free—
As Diogenes masturbating in the marketplace—will die,
His body fall-flung by the side of the road
To be passively mourned,
Or at the feet of an invasive
Reed, forgotten,
Feeding many equal things,
The earth itself.