Between her slender fingers she pivots the earth

Amused by how the blues and greens twirl

We let the motion power us

Letting it rock us and push us, haunt us and slow us.

Our lives are dictated by her constant motion.

It’s my last day with the old giants

In mourning I hike the lost trails,

sniffing the aroma of the bark,

that cinnamon of the forest

Under tepees of wood

in a membrane of shadows,

I stalk the earth, its mammal traces,

Varuna pulled forth the world the heavens the stars

With a roll of his tongue he wrenched time in her place

A word on his lips and the floods would recede

From sludge he said let there be more

When we wake, we stretch to

fill out our expectations of where

what should be & then we look in

the mirror for confirmation is this

me is this me is this & we know it’s