canyons.

i have an obsession

with wear

with erosion

(with canyons and riverbeds and ocean-cast bottles)

with things that flow in one direction

forever and again

and leave the things behind them

| changed |

when i walk

up staircases

– centuries old

(a century if they were a day)

when i step

in the valley

dipping each step

(when i step in the valley)

when i feel the curve of

stone like the curve of the

earth like a tap on my shoulder

(the valley of the valley of the shadow of death)

when i slide my foot

over the lip of each

step up and up and up

(like snow frozen over)

and remind myself

that at some point

i will have to come down again

| but i will never return the way i came |