let my final good act be
to feed the birds their due
to mimic fresh rain as feather
and return to earth and you
as the gizzard mends me heaven
know we do not fall apart
the soul is like a needle
flying still my borrowed arc
i am keeping two dogs
on an island of rock beaches
one dog: to fetch my knapsack
the other, i eat for dinner
i am keeping two dogs on a rock
of older rocks
and we are watching black waves break
horizon's divine reaches
i keep no name for either dog
just one and then the other
identical in every way
their every shape and colour
but should one go around the bend
and leave the other panting
then i can tell which dog is which
and dinner is my granting
lift me by my horns
stretch back my neck and loose
like keys from the maple
or flour from the baker's clapped hands
my blood into the earth.
let me cut a path to big water
with what i have grown and lost
