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Untitled
I could freeze this moment
and feel the air
cracking with heartbeats
sending out waves felt by
each particle of matter
each cup of coffee
in the world each
conversation each
bookstore each galaxy
each summertime frog
each river and each camp fire.
It all becomes one slow unending
beat called a fully living
breathing puzzle with no holes.
Two Moose in the Forks, Maine
A moose stands almost still
while his eyes amble
the openings between dead trees
rooted in Maine mud
His dark head stands out against the sky
and flecks of sunlight
It moves slow
He can't comprehend
the pavement a few feet away
and me speeding by
with the windows down
A few miles up the road a different moose
lays on the hard pavement
A frantic middle-aged man
stops passing cars to ask for help
between trying to call anyone
on his cell phone
The moose looks around with
the same slow gaze as his friend down the road
even though there's blood forming
a puddle just below his jaw and a leg
stretches behind like a broken tree branch
still connected by green threads
Untitled # 2
Driving back we have
good music,
windows to roll down,
and a coffee.
Knowing we just
paddled a new river,
we are infinite.
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