Fallen Snag - Yellow Eyes

On the flats

The fever yields

There isn’t any wisdom left

I’ll build a barn and watch it mold

How sulfur sours Greenland’s breath

I thought the elders leaning in

Had maps, kinetics, ancient bole

But now I see their wooden faces

Moaning

Lined with dusk and pale

Beholden to an early song

Still coiled on the rotten mother’s meal

And as the pine becomes the snag

The evening widens

Clear

Unkind

Don’t leave me on the flats

The fever yields

There isn’t any wisdom left

I’ll build a barn and watch it mold

How sulfur sours Greenland’s breath