"the shallow trench of your stride"

Blessed be the weight of your heel

upon the scree,

you who crossed the salt-flats

before the rains came back.

The air still curls

in the shape of your breathing;

the stones you overturned

are still cooling in the wind.

I do not know your name,

nor the house of your kin,

but I walk

in the shadow of your passing.

.