we had spaces where a floor would curl
through a line up the wall to the world
of its relationship to a ceiling
the rolling overhead of patterned cloud
coffering the light down on the crowd
of finely harvested cloths on her shoulders
whose line wound my arm down
around her waist in the turning
of this dance into these spaces —
we had a reach across patterns of change
of partner from stiffed mountain to burn over
exposured naked to lowland scaped
to wide skirted ocean whirled in to air
galaxial circles of spray crash landed where
we are re-grabbed into crop pattern taken
as if for alien this renewed earthen
reach its dance lines of relationship grown
as of a port part of everything.
Copyright © 2026 by Ed Roberson. Used with the permission of the poet.