until the pulse of words
o’er comes and detonates
until sunday-after-the-rain
and jujagalaboo
dance for you in the tall grasses
until your day’s most moment
is feathered by a winging of birds
until from tree to sky is
washed from mountain to rock
ah, and far beyond until
you breathe the circular breath
of earth and death
he will wait for you
watching the river for your return