from The Adjacent Possible

One emerges, a small vertical at the riveredge. One watches, waves as. By the
bank, waking. Wan to the river’s wake, one.

One scales a rising, back to the hills and climbing fullheight. The rocks cast rocks
upon rocks. One angles with the earth’s rise, flight skyward.

One sounds the waters, breaks toward a bottom of delimitation. Fathomless       remains
the river, remains one       each at the last.

One rifles over the prospect of scapular hills, scans a metered distance. Breath
and analogous cloud surface the mountain.

One furls the tongue at the riveredge, uncinctures the word and the real. Cracked
breath of language. One slips under, wonders       seeded dream.

One turns the eye under cloudcover, an open pool—blue running onto blue,
lapsed distances. One blinks at haze of ice       snowfall

One flowers among the watery veils       outpalm, open

A cloudself

Under under. Unaccountable, one is countless, fathomless, and alone. Words form as burrs and pits. The
river       the mouth weeps.

One dearticulates toward an unthinking unthought       Scatters unrelational, spun
pinions        mind of atmosphere

One is one, suffices.

One strikes out toward the proposition. One traces over a wide of snowfall.
One in one’s own drift, watching. One wakes as air—