ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 7
HEMLOCK BLUFFS ONCE AGAIN
along the ridge
where the hemlock children
gather around their mothers' skirts
everything goes as it has gone before
the glaciers' retreat
left here and there on north-facing slopes
pieces of the ancient cold forest
here above the floodplain
heads of the sycamores along the creek
are underneath my feet
I am watching flights
of birds scatter below me
the shade preserves
patches of snow from the melt
walking through it
I pinch a whiff of fragrance
from the feathery needles
brushing my face
blood circles my heart's warmth
through me to my fingertips
clouds course overhead
I repeat the walk I have taken before
and hear below me one man
say to another
something I can't quite make out