Terra Inferma

The only thing moving
was the eye of the python
while it waited in the pines
and palmettos to break
down its gain. What
is the sound of twenty
bikes passing? Spokes
in the sphere of the snake’s
eye spinning, the equi-
lateral sections of the pie
chart are forever
switching around:
the little and the large,
the fallen and those
that the world chose
not to swallow yet.
They only appear
in your rear view
mirror— wiry, quiet,
brightly striped. At night,
you won’t hear them
until you are already gone.

A Hairpin Turn

We felt a drop
(of ice)
in the tone
(in the wind)
of the talk
(it cut)
it was becoming
(the leaves)
something
(into shreds)
that couldn’t
(and nothing)
be stopped
(could stop it).

We looked
(up)
at each other
(and it fell)
across the walk
(into our eyes)
and we fell
(the ice)
into the dark
(was becoming)
where the salt
(permanent)
couldn’t melt
(and delicate)
the ice.