Aerial Photo

Wind and water do this, and snow in sun

down mountains and across the bad lands,

eroding into patterns of the peeled leaf

and body. Wearing stone down,

rivering through rich fields and sand,

scraping land to bare vein and bare nerve.

It was better other times. In winter

with the earth frozen still, we could still

move together; in that silence, live.

But now your shrill voice abrades away

with this flush spring thaw, my skin and me,

and leaves me standing here in my bare teeth.

This is no dream. I am here awake,

eroding as things soften and move-

even marble is driven to movement-

in my hand the deliberate glacier's

gifts lie ready, heavy granite, sharp obsidian;

as they cleave, I cleave, break away and down.