"a purpose"

The stars that dot the sky above

and the bones that crumple under my feet;

as I weave among the trees

and try to become

the soul I left alone

I remember this world

and all of its tragedies

and all of its celebrations

and I wonder

whether there is a purpose

to the snakes that camouflage

or the tainted wine

but soon I realize

that sometimes there is no purpose,

sometimes we

must construct one.