Our story was everywhere; it could not be put out
From deep in the trees a voice says / I’m here
But how long should we wait / for a capsizing nation?
He had never been raised, never told he couldn’t do this or that. So Aunt Bernice had to take him in hand.
We are five thousand here
The bizarre / and beautiful bounty of life diminishing….
I will be unable and – later – unwilling to forget him
In the bird country, I feel hard beaks peck against my skin…