The Seasons Inure Us To Loss
The seasons inure us to loss
whether a vote of confidence
or no confidence
we are neither more nor less
in our hearts and souls. We are still
whole, history
forgets our story
but immortalizes us, nothing is annulled.
Today's board vote affects my livelihood
how and what I hunt and gather,
money, but not whether
I live or die. That's God's and luck's neighborhood.
I like capitalizing God
although I don't believe and can't imagine
an intelligence managing or wanting to manage
this interface of rock and flesh, fire and sod.
The Knowledge
tells us how to rebuild after an apocalypse,
not let the circle lapse,
outlast the holocaust. I have no vantage
from ridges I ascend
Cercocarpus, turbinella, dry and hot
places worry, planning, thought
stop. May they inure me to my end.
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