it snowed all through march. and april. and the first of may.
fires, salmon, wine, and moonrise.
rye and fieldwork; sanitas at night.
earning homebrew; earning baked goods.
there were little women.
i.
we are not who we think we are
when we know that we think.
we think we are
what we think we know—
we are not what? what
we think we know,
knowing not what we know
is naught.
not what we know—
we are what we think
when we do
not know that we think.
when we do
what we do not know
that we know;
when we do not think;
when we are;
when we are and we do not think—
we know who we are.
ii.
you knit airy thoughts in the ether
when we only know how to process the past as an unanalyzable whole.
we relate with georgian ergativity
when in perfective moments the independent subject
is obviously one with the object,
and our doing entails only unitary thoughts in the ether.
iii.
some rocks slide
and some stay still.
until we arrive safely home
we’ll remain unsure of which to step on.
