In the car seat you trace alphabets of animals on glass.

The sun is a crash of bright bulls through the trees,

A flipbook of light.

Your mind chiseled out like a cave

The words cut through like water.

Mastodon, aurox, megaceras,

Disaster, rain, and reverence.

Songs rise up like seasons and winnow like death.

Voices, like old bones, fill the first cathedral.

The car runs forward, and the sun behind.

You are finally at the beginning.