The Snow Leopard Mother

by Jennifer K. Sweeney

 

The snow leopard mother runs straight down the mountain.  
Elk cliff 
 Blizzard.
 Hammers keening into the night.

 Her silence and wild falling is a compass of hunger and memory.

 Breath prints on the carried away body.  This is how it goes so far away from our ripening grapes and lime.

 Coyote eyes rimming the canyon.

 Yet we paddle out in our ice boat headed toward no future at last.

 O tired song of what we thought,
stillness crouches like a prow.
 We break the ice gently forward.

 If I want to cling to anything then this quiet of being the last to know about our lives.