THE DAY I LEAVE
The prevailing north wind orients my way. I name the trees: aspen, apple, basswod, birch. The alphabet through to willow. My heart knocks and spins, a whirling dervish, round my rib cage. But the land is steady and I feel brave. on the breeze are common smells of death and life: leaves, grass, sweat, smoke, burning. I don't think about if things are beautiful or not, but just that they are. Sand is carved by wind and sparrow is killed by fox. Seeds surf air currents - pulled under, gasping for breath, they land. Worms labour, decomposing what was once alive into what will one day again be. I take note of mosses and mushrooms. I watch the light perform.