He Sings About Hawks

He sings about hawks searching for water, in times where water was a type of soil. In times where water lay alone in the dark waiting to be discovered by an aching thirsty muscle.

He talks about how much lighter his body felt after the amputation and talks about how yesterday is as different as someone else’s childhood. He pulls the teeth of a comb through a thicket of steel and his features wrinkle into a smile whenever you speak.

His son loves the image of fruit trees with fruit hanging heavily from their branches. You love the idea of their elegant strength together. The alpha posturing of hard shells, the beauty of still wolves, when violence is static and nothing else needs to happen.