they spoke of hoofbeats
the thundering run of blood
through thread-like veins
but I heard spaceships, static
and echos, a voice miles away


hello scotoma
strange curving beast, back bent
and blown with white light
pull tight to the cornea
mark my vision with claw prints


the whistle of snow
dead grass trapped between the freeze
and thaw of autumn
I stir, nose my burrow mouth,
emerge in a new landscape