This is part two of "The Entry Poem."
I don't think I can do this line.
It's actually Logan's line.
I think this part's--
I don't know if I can do it like Logan.
"Drinker of sand.
Halo of bones.
To that rhythm of the first fall.
I've lost this place.
I try to find you but nobody moves--
only a single rhythm against the sign
of your thoughts so far away.
Endless movement of the universe, with flat of foot
flush to the ground, stand up and speak
as one about the heat.
For the next thing you know, to extend preservation,
the high suddenly stems away.
We fall silent, wrapped in the early morning shadows.
Soft crunching of sand.
A rainstorm disturbs the settled words as the sky,
dropping seeds of light.
Next, we have the gilded flicker,
the western diamondbacked rattlesnake,
the sonoran spotted whiptail, and the western white-throated
woodrat."