Wednesday, December 3, 2014


Pounding Stone in Inundation Zone of Proposed Dam

We take a trail that snakes through jeweled grasses
To an ancient village site down by the river
And brush lips as swallows rise and fall,
Looping and returning. A shadow flows
Through brilliant leaves and merges on bare arms.
We sprawl in the shallow pit
Near a pounding stone with empty mortars,
Like eyeless sockets staring at the river.
The last eagles glide over and spiral high,
Roots pulling tribes up from the soil,
High into branches--to flow in an ocean of breath....

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