One day perhaps I’ll live the life

he offered: rabbit through deep drifts,

stretch to crack vertebrae,

mogul green fields in a stream

of silver, nimble as Dall sheep,

shawled in reflections of light.

Some day I’ll inhabit

each moment with his fierce

intensity; widen my toes

to grip glare ice; pare

my vocabulary

to fifty essential words.

With death there is

no reconciling:

just a hole in the heart

short lances of pain

the faint trembling breeze

of heat streaming away.