Because of a single juniper tree.
Because of a 30-foot tree, and black ice.
Because of a blue SUV, some black ice, and
a juniper known as an Eastern red cedar.
Because he drove with his eyelids half-mast
alone in a narrow peninsula of thought.
Because maybe far from the ice and the tree
a butterfly beat its gossamer wings and
determined the course of his speeding car.
Because of a twist of fate/the unnamed/
the mirror he broke/or maybe God’s will.
Because the full moon couldn’t conjure a spell.
Because there is always a ceiling on life,
and time has revealed the number of floors.
Because all our prayers had broken wings.
Because now his barefoot soul is gone,
but can he still hear me calling his name?
Because of the unyielding trunk of a juniper
tree and a guillotine of ice.
