Imagine:
the horizon is the end
of
nothing. this land goes on forever.

rock settles into rock,

mountains heave,

grasses furl across every space

turned to the sun.

the sky is bluer than sky,

the earth greater than

earth can be.


i want into that field,

under those trees,

the lone sagebrush

the glittering river,

the glittering hawk's eye.

perfect blackness under stone.

i want to run my hand

through that beauty, the

curved and colored rocks,

the dying wind

smear it on my bare skin,

shriek my coyote dreams.

the horizon is nothing

but the limit of your grace,

the rattlesnake skin;

each perfect, bloodied scale.