Pronouncing the word is Running hot spring over glacier lagoon. It disappears if you don’t know where you are. Hot and cold orbits around our confused flesh And evaporates into the mouths of surrounding sheep. The rain drops forget Where they land And we forget it is raining. A Vulcan volcano Heats the land and water With the occasional eruption. But it doesn’t Not this time. The multi-edged Sworded glaciers That fill the lagoon Ship our boat, Diving deep in The darkness. We venture vertically Up the molten mountain I could slip and fulfill my dream Of falling for The wind untethered And without Hope. But you follow And catch me Without gloves Or rope. Our wool is washed Off to reveal Weary wide-eyed wolves Arriving in summer Prepared for winter And expecting forever To run the northern lights.
Waiting for the Piano to Fall 