Mirror 1: Mac and I Reflect on Distances

I: Traffic

MacMillan brings back specimens, of course.

Proof and question both.  Brings examples

of the daily stuff native: garb and tools.

One year, he captures the first moving film

(rocks bending on a hill to feed)

of musk ox.

                        *

He thinks dentistry and church were good

additions.  Isn’t sure about the rifle.

                        *

Summers in camp: at last a bag of mail

full of the war, daughters affianced,

children’s firsts, other explorers. 

Within the week, every man in camp

is hacking, rubbing swollen eyes, snuffling

as wife, patron, brother did

above the page.

                        *

Scouting, hunting on ice they pass over

sunk Basque whalers, a Viking’s lost coin.

Red herrings.  The true reach here is west, nouns pulled

from Beringia’s high steppes, from Siberia.

                        *

Beside MacMillan’s machine, Ahlnayah

did her best for the wax cylinder. 

He wasn’t sure a woman’s voice

could fix itself there.  Still, she sang. 

He brought that back, too.

II:  Regarding the Absent Heat of Your Skin on Letters I Receive While at Sea

Paper wing       Words smudged

in your hand’s stroke       What

has been sealed       Torn mouth

Lung-must

And a shiver along

my lateral line, olfactory

lobe lit up

Breath on the paper

Wind on the water (& off it)

Breath from the water

And ill wind       Tear-salt

Fish near the surface, glinting

Plankton rising        forced

Scent of panic        (lung-must)

Petrels arrive because of      

Patter and feed

Your eyes on the horizon

are greedy, could eat

leagues       Call my name

Breeze       Wind       Gale

Let the air clock around your mouth

It pushes, unturned,

against your mouth

If you stand on the shore and call

I’ll know