With Slowness

1
The pig's back against planks
                    (it cried harm)
from the tar paper roof
we heard the dripping of last furrows

which hasn't been repeated yet

2
and if you'd arrived on foot
and if you'd gone into the shed
Only three spokes of the wheel and a rind

peeled with slowness

3
would the intimacy

again
break into the air
                         as fruit does
                         (just the merest scent tells us)

I think your brain divides into summer and winter
and summer hurts

4
though I am a lake and bluer every August

5
and freezing and thawing have become so habitual I no longer like them
enough
to spend time in their improvement

I'd rather skate to the mystery I cannot talk about