A Walk in Tsaile
By Jake Skeets
After C.D. Wright
the sun fails to make sense anymore
an insect buzzes in overgrown red brome
butterfly whistle spark of beetle or wire rush
cattle choke wide sage in late weather
a field of big grass and red sky
small water amiss through words
and wind and a faded scar
like the one I trace on your wrist sometimes
and man the day fell hours ago
and you ask me to slow down
something shifts in the bushes
a rabbit an eternity a bull snake
there is a meteorite in my hand
a bird in yours
