Mt. Nebo

I crawled onto the face of living stones packed with the day bending backbones the air thinned all men into vapors as the brisk balance sent souls running a magpie followed this movement up he told every other wing person to come we all dreamed into the evergreen bliss it was here where our fortune would face never turned around behind salted shapes only with a song in the heart of a cedar tree dropping cones in the cup like abstract seas would we slip to the crest of resting or go straight to the top of the great Mt. Nebo