Until she swept the shade
Until she swept the shade from the path
it seemed that shadows were signs
tricking her footsteps with a destiny
she couldn't read
on this mountain of bones heaved up for her.
Alone, only the odd fly in the forest
cairns of stones with twisted iron markings.
In the middle of the path she crouched
started to trace on the poor soil
her question
which would not come right.
Brushed it out, her fingers itching
sweeping wide till the shade blew away -
dust, vapour, nothing.
In the bare heat
a puppy skidaddled out of the mountain
its claws still dripping larval stone
glossy as a child splashing in a pool.
It tongued her hands, chewed feebly at her shoes.
Then the only question was how to find milk
and how to hold it in her palms without spilling
to feed the animal.
Page(s) 19
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