Black Point, Nova Scotia


The night is starving itself. Fir tree. Fir tree.
What is driven

within dark mountain?
Miles below, fire burns. Who will

be awakened? What eclipses
shadow of a shadow? Sheer off

and go deeper. That’s one
direction. So that even if you hardly move

you return to the same place again
and again from far away. By the radiance shining through,

acid green snake slithers. By the radiance
shining through serpent fireworks zigzag.

See the black snake
in ash form. Not to be serpent

or yes to be serpent. Not to be sheared tree
or yes to shear it. By the shining Black mountain

night pulls dark.
Tree burns. Tree burns,

and bleeds
with the cinder of winged seeds.

Sun. Fir. Night. Mountain.
Our hearts are not in our bodies.

Carole Langille


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