Above the fire a woman is devoured by a snake，
unseen.
The leaves are yellow alongside & in the wake
the trunks & branches
mirror one another， black， rain-soaked.
And now he's old. He trails a hand until it snares
a leaf——saw-toothed.
Clouds break above the buildings
where there had been none.
The snake is old， its jaw completely
unhinged for the swallowing.
What now？
There was a continent.
Below， the last gods bum along with their last
offerings——
no smoke， no film， no evidence.
The gold-shagged blizzard of the willow
spills again.
Climb down. Prevent.
He leans back & the oar drips like no other memory.