drink the amber tea,
let it seep through your sleek feathers
and remember
what you do now only matters in halves
find a solemn tree
place your palm against its center and circle about
you are a world within yourself
take notes about the drowned
and let your toes fall fate to the cold
shake those solid bones
lucid sniffing coyotes
control the inward presence
let it leech the putrid ashes of the present
and smell the rotting ground
a quiet, stark way out
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem