toponym 5
the North, a medium-tall scrub
at eye level, the other layers flowing
into and out of
the poem
but for now, the moment
is this line of willows, second-growth
awareness
burned-over areas,
Labrador tea against the thigh
and a rustle of being
scrub birch, black spruce,
listening for connection
the thin tree cover wetland
buzzes away the afternoon drowse
soaks though shoes,
holds you here