Warm dusks too hot to sip anything
but rum and look north & north & north
like cold nights when the aurora glows.
Meatballs, size of a small river stone
hand curved, roasted & frozen
saved like speckled marbles in a jar.
Cattails bent over their pond
as if signing a mortgage.
Driftwood waving her wild bone
arms at the end of the sea
as if she untangled from nowhere, with
everywhere sprouting from her fingertips.
Boy perched on the rock above the cliffs above the river,
the second his pointed toes depart the rock.
The dive & the cold.
His wet head above the eddies.
The now & the now & the now
like the filly, top lip stretched so far above the brambles,
stomping to ram her fragile adolescent
chest against the fence
as if she could close the last hovering inches
between the taste of blackberries
& empty air.