dull sleepy rivers stretch themselves, in the drizzle
an alphabet of stone crosses, mirage
towns, a short stretch of road, you will soon
find what you need, a warning sign
before the narrow monkey bridge, metal
rumbles, stings your longing heart
in the small mountain church, from here
God is closer, among the oak trees, in electrical
lines, foothill plains, and in the dead-end streets
of Abundance and Scarcity as copper birds
scream, your body
and mine, and in the final neglect
of the land we extinguish
in smoky rain a cloud of white lime