Listening

The caravan winding narrow
canyons, animals stumbling
with the weight of this dream
cargo and you always, sky eyes
sea eyes, cold creek eyes, in this
dream who are you? I am saying

Yes. I am saying No. I am painting
this room the color of your eyes.
The furnace needs repair. A snake
is loose in the house. Outside
I am dancing with Artemis. I know
my warnings will be unheeded, we

are overloaded and I have so much
more than others. What can be left
behind? There are rules about what
a woman can wear and I break them,
defiantly. But also, this is all I have.
We have come so far. I am taken out

of the human world. Young and lean,
sky in your eyes, when you walk into
this dream, who are you?  Lust, longing,
lost forever, you swear to me, forever,
this kiss the universe, the whole of all
the love there is. This cold crescent

moon is gleaming like an upturned
palm in the western sky, everything
wrapped in a kind of glow. Does blood
know vessels; do muscles know bones?
Listen. There is a hum in the deep
woods, in the high desert.