"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

The drag nets dredge up demons from the dark depths.

Fishermen crowd and speculate in hushed tones-

"should we eat it, burn it, or bury it?"

"Is god punishing us? Is it an omen?"

It is easy to believe in evil when the unknown

crawls and creeps and lurks outside the

sphere of our perception.

I am that cherry tree outside my house, black forest earth piling at my feet. The kid who skinned her knees never came back up. Slipping, hands gripped down the trunk on her way down. Clumps of dirt still cling to her.