The Oldest Conversation

I wonder, will anyone recognize us

without our anger or our fear?

And if we stand here,

softly in the open,

will we be watered

or just mowed down?

Wait. Now that you’re here,

tell me about the moon and how

deer dream of running water

and how dogs are simply dogs.

Teach me—before we’re tossed back

in—the Sanskrit of your eyes.