I am the echo
Of the moon.
A cadaver
Where the ledges crest.

You are a specter.
The source of my soul’s erasure.

Your eyes are oak moss
laying in snowy space,
a galaxy inside the
fragrant mouth of a bird.

My opal eyes are sinking
Like daffodils
In an orgy of ecstatic breath

And
Our dreams are nature

Never ending.

---

Anthony Emerson lives and writes at the edge of the North Maine Woods. His poetry has been published by Visitant, and his essay on his relationship to Katahdin was published in the Winter 2020 issue of Appalachia Journal.