ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 3
ITS FIELDS
green wing of the hill
a world in flight
the creek's hands working all day
on the stones' tumble singing
the knock at dawn
woodpecker working overhead
hunger lifts him there
and the young tree which storms
shook shaking
with new leaves broken out
broken at her feet the body
feasted on the heart torn
open when the talons pulled
air layered light and heavy
storms from the heights whirling
lightning from dark nests
flies singing
a night coming full
of shaking and singing
a night drawn over us
deep in us working all
through our sleep and breaking open
its fields of us