[I open my eyes]

I open my eyes and remember sleeping

beside a hill. The sweet alfalfa

had to stand beside the horse

that would soon eat it.

I open my eyes to a river

of desire to scramble through wild

mint and disturb the crawfish

with my hand washing. Will you bless me?

O the furious

wheeling in my chest, for everything

awake in me is in the trees

is under the wings is wearing the storm.