A jackdaw
plays my tin roof, briefly,
beak and claw;
the bedroom
with its slanted ceiling
its sounding board,
me caught
in the physical passivity
of non-directional inattention
in the Ship of Dreams,
contemplating a planned day hike
up to the Sami place of sacrifice
at Junkeputt Mountain,
where everything not taken into account
will observe my movements
climbing up the scree;
for all my refinement
still feeling basic and raw,
no more than a beginner
on the morning I climb aboard
with Charon
with but one thing in common
with myself: me!