First I inhaled the sky
And then I
Closed my eyes
Adjusted my spine
And started
Gathering pine nuts
Beside the cinder
Cone. Then I hid in
The shade and
Read Whitman’s pages of
Unknowing beauty
Standing and sitting and
Crying then.
Walked back as if hollow
More like floating
And there he was following

Behind me I could only smile
Looking back
Fingers full of sap eyes
Like volcanoes.