Pitter-patter of bottlebrush tailssnap fast in fallen leaves that clatter and clangwith dashed-hope brothers, thengrow silent a moment to brightendemon’s deepest dark spacesin places blocked from any sunlighttrickle, ripple, stream, and glow.See the cattails by the marsh clearingwave and bend, almost break yet hold,bold strength in stalk given by good roots. Relentless groaning, shaking,crawling and…