Arc of Evening

A thousand moons
fracture the sky

the paleolithic timeline cracks
like a concrete bridge
after a catastrophic earthquake

the time line
reverses itself
back to Cro-Magnon man
back to rock and stone and loneliness

back before Neanderthal man
before flint made fire
before Orion had a name

there were trees
who hid smaller creatures
there were swamps and fields
who find me when I am alone
swimming in the ancient creases of dark

I toss and turn—
take a pill to make me drift back
I use my opposable thumb to close
the prescription bottle

I enter the twisted sheets
as the medications take hold
I am immersed
in the secret rituals of sleep
from a tribe long ago
how a small child
will cry out when she is falling
and the sound will travel
across the worlds
across the rivers of mystery and shamanism

calling to me
like a century
that never saw itself burning