(8.21.16) [Alaska 4]

The rain thaws my thoughts

of you, the earth, and I,

softly draining the cold from

frozen fingertips, my veins are rivers

That gouge out the rock

to form rifts of life, to shift

tides, to weld valleys, to connect

the mountain pass to the stones,

The pebbles laugh and I hear the echo

of your words upon the wind

that flows from the sloping trees;

Blackened branches etch a tale

of the ancient times and it burns

whispers of leaves into my flesh.

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