Brittany's Rest

Brittany slept beneath the trees, coated in dew.
Her eyes are filled with liquids we won't identify yet.
Past her face, a world of swirling leaves.
The winter robbed her of her grace, and now she's sleeping outdoors.
The dirt between the grass slipped between her pores.
The leaves swirl violently now, reacting, alerted.
Stirring, her lashes graze the surroundings, finding only water.
Back to sleep, the leaves lay calm,
"I am merely laying outside in a rainstorm."

Then a squirrel ate an acorn on her face.