The green leafy gaze, a loon on
By night mice in a dish, when the torch
is on. And squirrels want fireside.
I cut into the tip of my finger the first
day, need layers when I enter the
A death among reeds, we watch
at nothing for nearly an hour.
The dragonflies multiple by midday,
prism-like water below us.
I dream of the canoe rocking, arms
a tilted windmill, yet word is I’m working
The moon casts over the islands tonight,
black pitch made sun white by tomorrow.
This cedar and soil portage, now useless
with a map of water.
Goggled liked a child, survey the moss-
covered stones, a fish. I swim.