the giant
my father was
Tag: trees
sleeping
with one eye open
it’s his vigil too
In the sun’s house
we saw for the first time what a complete absence of nuance would look like. How irresistible it would be.
insomniac eyelids on strike for overtime
Two trains running
Trying to find the words for a rock oak on the mountainside…
end of summer
holes
in mushroom parasols
the exact middle of nowhere
empty web
forest…
enough daylight
for an ant
moss climbing the trees
mountain lake
dark hollow
all this time where
the great oak stood
a screech owl’s descending quaver
I forget who I am
gypsy moths
finding each other
without mouths
stopping for the view
an inchworm’s pure green
on my hat brim
