A Hundred Gourds 4.2, March 2015
if you unbuttoned me the shivering of the rain
.
.*
.
something white in the distance you promise me birches
.
*
.
only your word for it growing marigolds from seed
white birches
I can’t give up
exclamation points
arguing over the route —
the red squirrel scolds
our departure
northern light leaks between the birch trunks
last summer light
sunning on a log
turtle guts
after crashing into the rocks strange and beautiful mushrooms
filtering lake water
sediment collected
in my throat
into the wind she never looks like she’s trying
*
I finally got some kind of ku mileage out of my canoe trip. I think this may be about the end of it, though. Unless in a few years I’m sitting around bored and a sudden memory of northern lakes inspires me …