snow blind
hominid blind,

and so to lose
any estimation
of wingspan

I cannot see you for what you are, angel
for what you are not, angel

until before me,
your death
imprinted into snow     :         flopped dance, flipbook, cinematic

junk bird, you’re everywhere
even as I lie

to measure the length of one body
against another body


                   look what my reverence has ruined –

                                             soot soot thurible
                                                     lo, terrible winter

“Shots Fire, Waterfowl Season, Deep Haze” was published in the 2014 edition of The Labletter.

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