Hours and hours of powers
distributed unevenly as in
all retributions splash against
a grey mountainside sky, ensuring
the creeks speak burble against
the eleven hundred rock piles
where coyote pairs play at
wolf. The plan of resistance
desists when the bear becomes
itself, moment by moment, foment
by monumental deer garment, little
speckled poop alongside the carcass
of a hawk unlucky squirrel. The sugar
pines sweeten the sweat from the snow
spackle, unfouling the summer's desertion,
spreading a twelfth gross tonne on the run
in the heat of the mist, a marmot fist stammering
drumbeats to the tune of a ridgeline's fine spine.
Roman Ryan 