overillumination

the world is growing thin
the impressions you get
are passed off like they
were papers in an album
someone ripped out
last week came to no
culmination, no apocalypse,
even though we fasted
on our way up to Duluth
all that paper, all around,
circling in the yellows
and the reds of changing
aspens, the fierce swans
of the wetlands fading out