Nor Cal Summer
across the ravine a fallen redwood collects leaf litter
in two years it will be buried—
a hump—too round to walk on without sliding off
a corpse in the trenches.
"The poem is the cry of its occasion"
Nor Cal Summer
across the ravine a fallen redwood collects leaf litter
in two years it will be buried—
a hump—too round to walk on without sliding off
a corpse in the trenches.
