With My Head Hanging Backwards Over an Innertube on the Itchetucknee River
as if it were part of
the same me.
fire boil burn to put
back together.
falling off to be found
by a finder (to find)
one who finds.
shrugged it like sloughing
skin tight flakes of
fire flaking.
unrecognizable but for
the proximity.
I’ll think back a lot in
time, I thought
back to the afternoon
sun, horizon
on Turkey creek, swirling
sky between the
trees, upside down
with water hanging
like a ceiling sealing.
And frozen up with air
floating between sky
and sky and I
was I, And frozen up
We are.
