Three Days Dry
Bigger and closer. Things jumping
to view in random zooms. My own
eyes lunging at me from mirrors. Looking
a little clearer (is this possible already?)
with more green mixed into the brown
than I remember. Effect of moss, rain-
washed, gleaming from old growth hollows.
A space. Thin envelope of air, or
not air, around what I seem to be doing.
Like one of those clearings we kept
watch for in our camping days.
Silence. Not ringing yet but feeling it could.
That chuch-like sense, as we laid out our gear,
of a place set apart, cut out, from the larger forest.