Josh Datko

Wood Wide Web

Walk on the stomach of the forest floor, Look up the bone of the Douglas Fir, Hear the synapses of mushrooms in the sky, Smell the tears of fallen cones, Lick the lungs

Hear the barn owl screech

The boy tosses his cigarette to the ground and prepares the lifeless drone Unclipping its wings like a pet barn owl He dons the glasses, synchronizing his soul causing the owl to leap