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I am with the people of the ash
gearstrippers who wait
for activity with activity
a sawing blade that never cuts

the hum of human chatter from elysium background
I'm standing, photo of a hedge against a hedge
realms unreachably vast
eyes bearded with furious light

I am the hand that waits for the foot
the foot who waits for the hand
looking for a void to rest my song in
before I go to breathe the earth

you'll glance off me on the way to wife
and children, country gleaming kitchenwindow
the iron cast of determined life

we'll ride from the faucet
water into our own mouths
air greening with the tint of corpse-lit fields