In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

48 Underfoot This path, laid out By the logic of roots, by gravel Cracked from the grind and purge Of glaciers plowing south, Leads me deep into the trees. And I take these green turns, Unriddling each direction like The twisted scribble of an invalid, Though this road holds No dispensations for the lame, Uneven, steep, feeling its way Sidewise around the snags and gashes. Days like this, with the sunlight Clogged in the boughs, the close press Of leaves reaching in, days when All impediments postpone The easy compass of the eye, My steps stall back to origins, Downward and inward, the earth Sliding against my sole. And I feel In the slip and stir of each stone A galaxy that holds in brace The bodies it pulls apart, Always on the brink Of ruin and revelation. Wherever This path unwinds itself, I’m walking On solid worlds that waver under me. ...

Share