Two poems.

1.
Capturing light
is an event
still unmechanized
but the flash of broken shutters
lets in too much wind
an element vision
contained to projection
we've turned our limits upside down
and the last wall
has only the smallest cracks
but my fingers aren't as nimble
as they are small.

2.
When the roots went upwards
let our boots fill with water
slipping along slick clay surfaces

this is not a pond or a lake
only a creek that ends
with rust
though this pool is still brave enough
to collect itself
here