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!