I take place
decide each day to walk or not to walk
dakota is a far sound on another tongue
unci-la, hoksica-la*
a block in my throat
all streams hard frozen
your mother doesn’t know you’re going
every limb of every missing child
rock ridge, glacier-dragged boulder
winter light between bare trees
somebody who turned into nobody
rescuers say don’t leave the trail
no second spring
place instead of time
every object owned represents a fear
one’s my limit, small as I am
stone roads with grooves to guide cart wheels
river otters, tree roots
a space for error
whatever wants to kill me
somebody, something can always be blamed
ignorant of country, of age, of weakness
where flood took the path
green bergs sucked under
Wilde loved the word vermilion
why not become all flame?
* un-chi-la, dear old woman; hok-shi-cha-la, dear child
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