REGION OF MEMORY  

The other moves monstrously at the beginning. 
It threatens the tree. It climbs endlessly 
to the spirit and roots in the deepest belly. 

We advance as a hunter and, then, 
as a child running from a wild fire; 
from the whole lit sky that captures innocence.

The sadness is a collection of gulls waiting 
for its  poisoned fish to leap. The estuary is quiet;
carrying our reflections to the sea. 

Ah- the Other! Dreams are conjured at the 
entrance where she sweeps the air clean 
        with a gesture. 

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