This is water spilling & burning –
A slow-moving tributary of moments
Of no order. A disturbance.
No language is fit to speak it.
In it travels the long decay
Of an ancient gasp – a hidden
Human gasp. It is no longer pain –
It is permeated. At a last remove
I tell you there is only a chill
Slow & seminal through everything –
Even my sweet horses
Will be poured out like water.
Old lungs close over. Sea ice
Spreads ahead of the winter hunt.