wild/fire/winter

wary of picking the ashes
out from my mother’s
hair, everything alight yet
nothing glimmering, i fly
away from disaster like
a god. upon return
to this vast green smack
of mountainless state,
the deer are on track
to outnumber people &
i almost say “let them.”
put down the bow,
rusted arrow, & watch
the field swallow its own
shadow. we are
all animals here— our
footprints blanketed by
the same furious snow.
once i made a pact to
outlive pasadena
at the airport, now
gambier takes me
in its cold arms;
not home but room
enough to stretch
my spine. i am running
out of time to love
the huge world. i am
running across the
road without looking as
if i am six years old,
as if i’d only ever
seen antlers on reindeer.