The seasons inure us to loss

The seasons inure us to loss

whether a vote of confidence

or no confidence

we are neither more nor less

in our hearts and souls. We are still

whole, history

forgets our story

but immortalizes us, nothing is annulled.

Today's board vote affects my livelihood

how and what I hunt and gather,

money, but not whether

I live or die. That's God's and luck's neighborhood.

I like capitalizing God

although I don't believe and can't imagine

an intelligence managing or wanting to manage

this interface of rock and flesh, fire and sod.

The Knowledge
tells us how to rebuild after an apocalypse,
not let the circle lapse,
outlast the holocaust. I have no vantage

from ridges I ascend
Cercocarpus, turbinella, dry and hot

places worry, planning, thought

stop. May they inure me to my end.