From the air the rift is obvious.

Cascades, Sierra Nevadas —

I see how the Earth folded herself,

intimate and generous

into the shift and spread.

 

Between us, the space is not so clear.

I have bent, turned, given in, broken down

and hidden

 

but the quakes, the insults,

the mean stares and rivers of anger —

where does this plain and transparent

continent of me

drift to?

 

J. Pratt-Walter

6/22/2019