j o h n  r o s

listless in heat as humid pockets form from welled pores — moving southbound again, and as so many times before, the slow and steady rocking motion of summer passages set the horizon line perfectly along this river, these rocks. this moment says nothing in so many words — vacant like stolen spaces, lost temples, vestigial organs. replacing vacancies with the extraordinary, dignified clouds of haze — humidity cuts — forcing these forward steps to be strained — in quagmire — in mud. forward’s palm presses chest, pushes back — simply and with seeming care.