May 11 Stone Streaked

From a cottage by water, out the back door, into a woods’
wavering musk, Mayapples umbrella up out of decay.

Buried alive inside, I’m drowning in crosscurrents.
Tolerable? Perhaps, on a day also glimmering springtime, but no.

I stride out of the trees, wade
a meadow stream, begin an ascent

I want to feel the perfect breeze on my naked belly
hear the receding music of

children singing in the grass,
they just might settle what jiggles my insides, but no.

Sliding backward on a strong climb, I
Press my cheek into sandstone, reach for purchase

In need of rest, I keep moving, forward then back, last
person on earth alive after apocalypse

I blink out over a rocky escarpment, find myself
stone-streaked, washed in the blood colors of sunset