Here is the breeze again
and the smell of grass
of water of firewood.
Leaning
to unspoken music.
Crushed squirrel,
get up and dance with me
for an instant
before I lose your sight.

I had forgotten
how to rage
against the wind.
I was going to walk the road,
tamed as a wild animal.

I forgot I ain’t no road ****.
The trees run backwards in time
for those anchored in speed.