Who can say what will happen here? Or
In plain or Fancie?
Sliding on black ice. Catching dry
air lit like a dolor. In keen
patches. Of her.
O place of riddle.
And interruption. Alluvial ridge. And rupture.
Red loam. Dwelling in kind.
I could shut my eye.
Like a blind.
Or my door. Hold the broken
straight and plumb. As if in measuring
how the heart cracks at night, how it makes
its small noise,
I could open its green and late noon shadow. Its mean
and silver whiteness.
Note: the factual and inspirational source of this sequence of poems is A Handbook for Wilderness Survival by Bob Harris (M. Evans and Co., 1996).