West

old song
as path with same moon
known by aim
& agile glimpse
blinking in the bright light
I hear
wings flapping
bird gurgling
threading & lacing the horizon
with seeded strands of footpath
finds broken twigs,
scratched earth
reveal who has come before
mingled with my own track
dusty boots stumble,
leashes tangle
shiny crows laugh in unison
only the train’s whistle
pierces this sanctuary
like potsherds
that poke through the topsoil
and reveal the migrations of travelers past
as always, what is new is what is old
who listened to what sound then?
eating juji fruit to pass the time
chewing loudly
I drop a few so I can be found
cholla sentinels mark the way
as time resonates
  with lunar feathers