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156 A Face to Meet the Faces All the Trees of the Field Shall Clap Their Hands Eduardo C. Corral Are the knees & elbows the first knots the dead untie? I swing from a rope lashed to a beam. Some men along the Yuba river toss coins into the doubling water. Visible skin. Memorable hair. Imagine: coal, plow, rust, century. All layers of the same palabra. Once I mistook a peach pit on a white dish for a thumbprint. Wolf counselor. Reaper. Small rock. The knot just under my right ear whispers God is gracious, God will increase. The soul, like semen, escapes the body swiftly. ...

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