balanced precariously moon
rests on antlers of a pine

cool light washes every grass
each red-blood paintbrush bud

outlines tumbled cones fractured
rocks with weightless silver leaf

mountain meadow
limned with early frost

despite summer constelleations
death is compressed with-

in one white fist of owl
its long shadow stretched to touch

the indistinct thrum of a distant
route where twin cones of light

desperately search for
structure