Dante's Heart
George Moore
Cycling
south from cold rain
Prince George to anywhere
desert culture might flourish.
Dropping down the Arctic
corridor to Boise, passed Mammoths
frozen in the ice, a wolf keep
where, near Jasper, they howl
as if hollowing out the wilderness
in search of that sliver of moon.
The night does not surround them
as it does us, in the camp.
They move uninhibited
by our loss of sight. Along
the Canoe Reach down
to Basketmaker’s terrain
still wind whistling that tune
wolves sing to the pterodactyl
I ride, my flight, their flight
toward recovery.
Read:
Proximity
Extinctions
Cycling
south from cold rain
Prince George to anywhere
desert culture might flourish.
Dropping down the Arctic
corridor to Boise, passed Mammoths
frozen in the ice, a wolf keep
where, near Jasper, they howl
as if hollowing out the wilderness
in search of that sliver of moon.
The night does not surround them
as it does us, in the camp.
They move uninhibited
by our loss of sight. Along
the Canoe Reach down
to Basketmaker’s terrain
still wind whistling that tune
wolves sing to the pterodactyl
I ride, my flight, their flight
toward recovery.
Read:
Proximity
Extinctions
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