how much longer
with no destination
tongue the wound
not yet healed
in my mouth
enough to taste blood
switchbacks keep the trail dry
soggy mud around the bend
same storm on different slope
aspects. I face my past
with it still behind me
Sara from amazon.org leaves a voicemail. She needs retail representatives in my area. I will stop
bringing devices on hikes.
Cougar prints in the mud next to a varmint hole. A home. There could be a poem down there I will
never read. I have no reception.
A plastic water bottle lies in the mud dented by neglect. I do not pick it up. I assign responsibility to
the litterer. I feel shame as I write this. It stays in the body. It does not decompose.
I throw a rock into the river forever
changing its life. Energy
in my elbow. My motive to destroy
inherent. The water licking
away the edges until
it spreads further down the bed