kezar 2017

we lost stars in the bourbon,
caked ourselves in muddy
smoke and cranked the
voice of a leaden seafarer
until the night was filled with ink.
it was pink when we rose
dull as dawn and full of longing--

here, we refuse to dissipate
like clouds seeking
the full sky.
i am sad with my brother
lost on the dock
staring at the same mountains
year after year.

i carry it as an ant
carries a twig above
its head, others bear
it like a log beneath
their feet, or a stone in
their pocket.

it is hard not to apologize.
when my eyes close,
i feel it humming like
a temporary insect,
a brother dragonfly
about to land.

these nights are for the bobcat,
wild. we stay in the wood
laughing at the puzzle,
holding everything at arms
length to catch the shadow.

we boast of trees like
grass and holy lakes
that fill our mouths.
at the edge of the mountain,
when we rest out legs
and pant-- it would be
so easy.

Mica lights the way down
and i hold winter this
summer in my growing rings
like a proud spruce.

sacred are my brothers
who with different eyes
stare out into imagined
edges of worlds and wait with
me to climb down.

where does our moss grow?
who holds this here,
this second like
running water?
and where will it show on us?
in scars? in fruit?