discernment is a special grace-
       that phrase normally would
       have washed over me, but

     the fire’s getting faster and I’m
swearing at the gathered theories-

went back for every door I
could not open

      and saw from the muddled
result a blossoming,  altered
terrain still breathing inside out,

      we are here,
if only to put away the days
we circled our wagons,
pistols drawn, brave in the void.

//