i was just a-boy-on-a-raft
in ten-nes-see, the nolichucky
rode me over its rough spine
downhill onto the small
of its back, a smooth place
the water gleamed, canyon
walls, granite rugged straight
up surrounded a box of gleam

we jumped in for a swim
current carry us for awhile
without obstacle and i asked
how deep is it here? and then
one hundred feet to the bottom

one hundred feet of water
how many feet of darkness? impossible
how many feet of rock? straight
up impossible how many
feet of sky? impossible

my poor heart slackened and i forgot
the difference between earth and sky
and water and what monsters beneath
or above? what monsters
on those cliffs? my heart slackened.

when i close my eyes to go to sleep
i make myself very small
i picture the space around a bee
all that air, air infinity, and a tiny bee
i make myself very small
i try to remember things

sometimes i am an owl i once saw
that sat on a branch off of the trail
and stared and stared and stared
in the broad daylight my heart slackened
at the sight and i am sometimes that
owl when i close my eyes to go
to sleep i am that owl who does not
know day from night or at least
has no words for it poor beast
that cannot tell april from may or
at least has no words for it

sometimes i do not know
sleep from waking
or at least have no words for it.