Coyote spine,
Four hands meeting earth and
Divining, aligning with
Wonders, along dreams we
Stride as vapors,
Silent signals
Taking all the land into
Fog embrace.

Dog face.
Sharp long mouth that
Howls,
As a wicked kiss,
As a curse that
Streaks across the skies, together we
Lie,
Like wings entwined.
Heavy feathered hands beating outward
In a bosom of air,
In ocean of naked still wind
Crystallizing,
Chilling bodies into
Bits
Of
Glass.

This too
Shall pass.
The moon shall set,
And rise again,
As is the nature
Of life,
And
Death.

Wolverine hair,
Coarse and
Matted and
Wiry, like a metal twist of
Rage;
This here is the
Spade,
To lay out your burial ground
As the gods
See fit.

We’ll moan
At the dark, until all of
Morning seizes
The loneliness.