Self is a flower

Self is a flower

Monday, 28 March 2016

Mammoth



When the sea came over the mammoth, did it cry?
When it lay flat on the bottom did its eye
still turn up, looking for the sky? What my child means:
Did it mind? Did it matter? If the animal would have
been human would it have written a last letter?

Did the sea mean to take her? Is dying like falling asleep
or did she wake up? What was left when death peeled
off her mammoth-makeup? Is there something like
a break up?

Is it a loss or gain that we find these bones today
from what we did not know existed?

I dream a Mammoth awake
to walk through my river. 

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