Evening by the Blackfoot in Late July

I’d like to learn to lean
like shadows of trees on mountainsides
over the physical mass of geographies,
body as land, land as body,
to be able to stretch out my arm
as shale shifts, as trees turn
toward or away from the sun,
toward or away from the moon,
to be a part of striation,
stretch lines in the dirt, along the body,
moving with the rhythm of the earth,
with force, and yet with quiet.

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Published in Camas: The Nature of the West