-
I concentrated on this panel of sky
-
Things floating like the first hundred flakes of snow
-
On the other side, there could be anything,
-
it is the great circulation
-
Now I adore my life
-
The darkness, a magician, finds quarters
-
Coyote too is up there, crouched in the moon,
-
What perches, what roots, what winds and cracks
-
When it comes, the Landscape listens —
-
the washed colors of the afterlife