Icelandic Transitions of Lunar Photographic Trespass

those cupped hands
so constellar at their ease
an horizon of sleeping mammoths
in woolly dreams persists

a flat palm of cornflower irises
gives way to ancient wild flower dustings
a high snow irritates brisket and haunch
floating up a waking of some final warmth

first to knees and then lifted rump rises
a slow and clumsy herd waltz of shadows
the red moon in final season
hangs what it can still give

at least an impression of birth
that can enthral a few admirers yet
but an Easter Island Head falls
in its history of alien monolith

as fewer were left to paint those eyes
hold the glance of generations
worshipping themselves into extinction
out of place to witness

in the foreground of skin and fur and lichen
the wandering grassy travails
a legacy of sheep or goats or bones
from ancient crusts where once water

licked at places of frozen ordinance
from out of the smaller twin’s orbit
where only a few footsteps leave a visit
yet here the granite still pulses

with the fleck of human fire