Watchful Eye

• Jasper Paparella, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2019

In the middle of a forest, only one sound can be heard.
“Tick, tick, tick”,
A sound, the final seconds of a bird
The seconds count the distance between her and bloodied soil
Tick.
A final breath, drawn in toil.
Tick.
The beats of time, they seem to slow.
The faster she falls the slower she’ll grow.
Tick.
We watch over her.
She hits the soil, its inferred.
Tick
The sound scratched by a thief.
In the middle of a forest only one sound can be heard.
An exhale of relief