Begin in darkness, picking your way along the path,
mapping memories, not your flashlight's
                                                                narrow beam.

Moon is setting; drawn by the same string, sun has
not yet reached the horizon.

The gods live in myths
of ascent and descent,
while art is before
                                  and after.

What is and isn't in the four pads
of a bobcat's foot?
A fifth, in the middle, walks like a
fox's heart-shaped center.