second shaman song
Squat in swamp shadows. mosquitoes sting; high light in cedar above. Crouched in a dry vain frame – thirst for cold snow – green slime of bone marrow Seawater fills each eye Quivering in nerve and muscle Hung in the pelvic cradle Bones propped against roots A blind flicker of nerve Still hand moves out alone Flowering and leafing turning to quartz Streaked rock congestion of karma The long body of the swamp. A mud-streaked thigh. Dying carp biting air in the damp grass, River recedes. No matter. Limp fish sleep in the weeds The sun dries me as I dance Gary Snyder