circles of gray in eye of cell
five moose, one deer, three rabbits, one fox.
a shooting star.
a tape full of footage i want to keep, ill have to buy a new one.
for water that slathers sharply across the rocks and ill make a lick.
the mountains an object very big and very far.
we are safe here.
prayers for loons
for the dampness
for wool blanket with red blue and yellow stripes
for no no see ums
minks and moose
rocks for sitting and stepping, my face is fresh
each thread i pulled today, from my hand to the cup i plucked it off.
from the knife, to the meat, to the movement i was fulfilling.
and the pull of my pants
and rubbing and closing of face through the hand
i pulled out the strings,
smells, ever moving always glimmering
dense and fast, or warm and still, sharp and rough and strong
unforgiving is this large water
rock is warm like my hip bone
my view is full with vivid textures
take me over and push outside skin
through something thinner than wind
painful because of how beautiful it is, and unshared.
fast waves of sadness and calmness in tin cups
i move it when i sleep.