swift flight south
the orange temple song
balled up and wasted in a field
of clouded sway
rocky mountain cliff song
little girl feet step
around trees with roots
like the knuckles of giants–
giants who roamed longstride
bellowsonging about how the ages
get smaller
with time
separation of space
the hill country songs bedded like rocksoil
in hide-wearing folkpeople
the two step and wicked jazz that passed over
during sunday dinner–
possum eyes glint night light
the feature of withered faces windtorn and blown
half asunder by splintered labor
knelt at the temple singing songs
of how things are
and were and are going to be
temple talk language like color
like a blanket in the regions