Cedar smell delicious
As I lose myself
In the merciful
Shading of lacy green
On bunion reaching roots
Making walking delicate.
Mostly silent.
What am I doing here?
The Evinrude discarded
In the tall grass
At Bay’s edge.
That Bay with its
Unending westerlies
And hungry cormorants.
A chipmnk heralds
My trespass.
A downy hammers
The Court into session.
Identify yourself, city dweller.
State your purposes.
Not a single step forward
Until approved as
Benevolent, respectful, adventuresome.
A doe flicks her tail
Motionless in other respects
The delicate female reticence
To have intercourse
With one so removed
From the customary Red Man.
With clamshell
Breastplate adorned
With the beauties of
Dried berries.
A mother’s preparation, lovingly.
Jangling
As his feet pounded in dance
Upon the dirt of
Mother Earth.
Turtle Earth.
Odd to talk of turtles
Neath these Cedars.
Bay seeming part
Of another wet world.
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