thick-skinned

the day the moon fell down and all its superskinnies with it
bucket-listing swinging into view into forest—I couldn't 
make out the grisly details the gnarly details of sky and leaf
and all that blotchy skin—that was the day I woke up 
and remembered how the snowmelt once dipped around me
cupped by rock grass and water hyssop when I played
horn-of-plenty horn-branch horn-thicket in the waves
of tree-knees when I remembered I am blood and water
leather and wool big of nostril placid beast at the placid lake-face 
and when that fallen half-moon dangled overhead in threat 
the trees spread their knuckles my big head turned away  
and the thin little towers rattled their bones and fell and fell