Because we have hands, we know we live
in a world cupped by the means of its own
destruction—as when I try to hold anything
still as salmon in the river frozen,
a crazed grizzly pounds all his weight
upon the surface when he should hibernate
like the others. When I am beside you, imagine:
one world silent as ice, held asleep in snow.
Another & it’s spring, the ice hatched.
We work hard because air & sparrow
set side by side is only partial truth. For as wings
become the wind, salmon dream a current
even when time stops. Their scales reflecting claws
until bear is fish & fish, again, becomes water.
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lovely knowing detailed reverie, thanks!