Climbed the talus around the pond last night-so many pebbles
around a puddle from the views of Baxter Peak, but down here
chunks of granite as big as the small house I grew up in, all
jumbled, jutting out of cold, clear water and piled up towards
the stars. Silent lightning split the sky far north. Scrambled
as far up the rock throat as I safely could and then some.
Slept beneath the cliffs. Had a dream of you so real that
for a long time after waking up, it felt good to have seen you again.