that inexorable pull the waterfall splitting into a hundred separate streams rivers in the air full coursing but bankless even in fear there is boundlessness here mist and rain caught in indeterminate webs and spiders dead center if there is mystery we carried it in water runs to the lowest point
we ran through a forest at night an unfamiliar road an unfamiliar night anything can be foreign depending on context . back-lit windows as heavy-lidded eyes monstrously large behind the trees . a car passing quickly a thought that won’t settle that’s not a bird it’s a bat
Thinking of a river, thinking of a lake, of water, cool and far from here, and of passage, if not arrival, of what comes after endings, and also beginnings, what’s beyond, what’s more– Thinking of the forest floor, gestalt of cast off needles and moss, how gracefully it accepts a weight, gives way but doesn’t break, and with each year how it grows– in place.
OPTIONAL POETRY 