OUR HUMAN SHORES

                                    To be an arsonist
                       
                                                    when the West

                                      tinders.
                                                             How menaced
           

                                                                 we find solace.

                                     How alone
                                               
           
                                                          we smolder.

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OUR HUMAN SHORES

                       
                         When I want to die
            in myself

                           loosen my human frame

I crawl into the desert
                to witness          the infinite

       whole of sand—
                              the earth crumbling

             stardust to stardust

epic to epoch

        sentiment to sediment

                            a dance words twirl
                as they echo                  into the abyss.

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These pieces are derived from witnessing multiple wildfires off of I-90 in Montana, Idaho, and Washington over the past decade, and their subsequent smoke and ash pouring over my life.