in the story of my eyes

4.

I stand in the woods without you

branches encrusted with gods
pin me tightly against the cliff

nightsong
swarming with breath
fills my tears                  shackles the blue spruce and maple
                                     to the wind


I hang the sky with blessings         boughs          
and frail words          that corrupt my empty lips

I am alert to these falling moments
pouring
from my mouth

without you in the woods