Yellowstone

I wasn't there when it began
at least the way I am

Maybe we were all undersea
like the fossil I found
in the middle of a south Georgia Field


The forest could have been a reef
The mountains an Island
The ridges of the canyon
a channel where we swim

It doesn't always matter
where we came from

As long as we know where we're going
like Old Faithful
who tells us
where we are

And the mountains
if you listen
can tell us where we've been

Like flying saucers
and Jesus Christ
riding a Dinosaur across the eerie landscape

of endless numbered days
that crush themselves like kittens against the breast
biting milk teeth the blue someday
that fell like daggers of hot rain
up yellow stone
and lifted up into clouds
that you and I
named lorraine and salem

and tufts