Collapsing, moans Cloudhead, rain unto earth

and i am perched on the tip
of something big
this may take all day
he burns new and bright
his elbows and feet
awkward
and sweet
his hands
dew-slick windings
his mouth smells of woodsmoke
i imagine its dark color
and am sprung free
by its cooling air
he slides down like a river
flat and brown
decoding
my warm thunder