Born to churn opaquely, the circular headwater spring's
constant warmth respires in rocky black and sandy aqua
where a fuming rises under igneous prisms of mossy cling
and a darting mirth of minnows quicksilvers the grotto spa
near a drained lantern's orange glow in fast fading light.
Scant promise from a sandy trail though beige meadows
where the orange blaze on gnarled pine fades to white
and leads a squint astray under the coniferous boughs.
An arc of bending darkness mistaken in creeping fog
skulks crackled under the foot near grey palms in line-
heard by a black paw a scratch on the fallen bark log
under the swirl of Ursa Minor and a sky dimmed pine
which float overhead in a glass from reflective remove
and, in tracking the stars, you can sense the earth move.