Poetry • by Mark McKain • 1

Poetry by Mark McKain      Edge Forgiveness Turn from cliff edge—a seed erupts, a crow krawks. Decibel of its laughter echoes the ten-mile gap between North and South Rim—gift & affection for the ear. Our palms sweaty with imagined plummet, ranger perches on rock, lectures on the quotient of a thousand caches. Pinyon jay, forgetting five percent of its buried hoard, calculates a geometric increase in pines, tracks an abstract topology, a map … I grab from the glove box, you, in the driver’s seat, me, unfolding campsites, ferry crossings, tracing lost rivers, roads that won’t refold. Last night, Orion’s Belt scraped the chasm’s rim. Today, condor wings spiral up Vermilion Cliffs. You, a trace of black feathers.  [  >>>>>   FORWARD  ]   + [Distillate © HA&L + Mark McKain {from the Greek bios} -- the course of a life.]