alone we replicate

attempt to substantiate 

the self to live 

dwell in 

turn round with 

try to remember the figures 

and counts not by name 

or formation but the way 

hunger is known

and all this meaning 

just another ward 

against pain 

affection withdrawn 

to a great height and

we tried to achieve 

our way up this 

steep slope of belonging 

forever this slipperiness 

forever these walls 

there is no bottom 

no hand hold

these consecrated woods

have been subdivided 

until we are left with 

streets that name what

once had been 

ridge and valley and vista

and gentleness gone 

from the world 

a small white butterfly 

dead on the mown lot 

the way it spins 

in the dark 

when dropped

and we have tried

to be upright 

though strung on

crooked tunes 

time and pressure 

warp intention 

remaking me 

remaking you 

submerged in the creek 

run dry 

buried in the soil

turned clay 

let go and be carried 

all the way down 

beyond knowing 

and thought 

where there is no want