He sent me into a rapt confusion, looking and listening
against the fallacies of form
At dusk, the snow is determined as ever.
I quiver among the weeds.
when it pierces my skin
I tremble without panic
If God blessed vegetation, fish, birds and beasts, /
then humans, did s/he get around to the rocks?
Would you spit like me.
“lost / in the field / waiting / for human life / to reenter”