Concurrence
Tracker,
between the refreezing night sounds,
crisp and starlit,
we hear you dreaming
of vivid blue skies and mountaintop tundra.
Ptarmigan and hare
crouch in bearberry and birch.
One of us lopes across lichen bright rocks,
pauses, sniffs the air,
and drops behind the ridge,
shifting the dream like a rope.
Meanwhile
we track near,
toe pads pressing into
wet spring snow,
moving in a forest
of shared knowing.
When you wake to name our trail
wolverine,
the sun will break over the mountains.
The vivid place inside you
will stir,
rising,
looping our
imprints in synchrony,
joining in
the timeless, tended journey
of coiled souls.
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