The Loon’s Cry Folds
into its own world disappears
tremolo diver within the ever-changing origami of the sea
sea we walked away from our feet, jeremiah anchors
sink into wet sand as if in remembrance
during the breeding season male territorial songs
hurtle each desperate call knifes
into scar tissue opens/ closes/ opens
the moonstone door of desire
if only we had not lapsed in eden’s liquidity
what wild magenta laughter might scaffold us toward god
(Originally published in Nimrod.)
