alone in the jack-pines
far behind the hills
a man sits naked in a pond
a woman in black pours water
from a bowl upon his head
it trickles through his long white beard
ripples radiate across the sky
a fading smear of peach
stars begin to fall
they're not what we suppose
but burning coals of bluish ice
the size of fists
they smolder in the pond
but pierce the ground
like bullets cutting through un-fired clay
crows fly out from smoking holes
kirtland warblers
wrens
on the edges of their wings--
fire
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