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