i.
the rock plateau eddies
splits sinks hollows curves
into this basin, beyond which
the void white mist I sit
before. staring over the edge
eventually reveals treetops
hundreds of feet below.
to my right a
dark solid vertical edge
trips the eye
down to vertigo.
start again at the top slowly.
trace each detail of that edge
draw back the skipping eye
grow slowly that sense of space
distance
depth
mist
stone
ii.
on red dirt roads, english podcasts
and tread-furrowed shoulder I pause
roll down windows and
hear suddenly the pings
high-pitched trills
bounce from bird to bird
changing at each reflection
an echolocaiton from foraged trees
eating small berries upside down,
one looks up and I see it ping
before being brought back again
to that tone as an endless response
to responses
echommunication
a sonic mesh
so clearly a thing of itself.
I wrap myself in it for minutes
and miss it still