Where mountain strives down foothill clasps
and is amok among undead rivers,
husking walls and moat around a town,
my shambling legs haul me.

Where loping plains sing atop muddy, lung trenches,
and are tilled for lives, filching grains into breads,
my twisted back expresses me.

When decrepitating time has mauled a forest
and is the spark of tenacious fires,
my hour is spelled.

Where fish begin, and when storks ascend,
as ants conduct, and how ages are built from sand,
my crashing works are spent.

I am palsied by my stake in the world,
and am as amethyst,
a February on the rocks attached
in critical nubs, my time anew,
beginning here at the time of my siblings,
who are the rulers of my kind,
who subjugate to consecrate, yet are allowed
at the oars of all things.