second shaman song
Squat in swamp shadows.
          mosquitoes sting;
          high light in cedar above.

Crouched in a dry vain frame
       – thirst for cold snow
       – green slime of bone marrow
Seawater fills each eye

Quivering in nerve and muscle
Hung in the pelvic cradle
Bones propped against roots
A blind flicker of nerve

Still hand moves out alone
Flowering and leafing
              turning to quartz
Streaked rock    congestion of karma
The long body of the swamp.
A mud-streaked thigh.

Dying carp biting air
            in the damp grass,
River recedes. No matter.

Limp fish sleep in the weeds
The sun dries me as I dance


                           Gary Snyder