11 March 2016

Poem-A-Day #11 : This Geology

This Geology

Elk preen on the edge of the canyon
clasping themselves to the rocks - lichen around the knobs gray and feathered

Wind boils itself - fire in the eyesockets of lime

Shapes make and unmake themselves - grasping soil and then letting it go
like birds from the nest

This geology is angry

Blood in out over - the universe begins with a shallow grave spun from a river
and it ends in the palms of a bee