In this narrow passage I must appear as large 
As possible, arms uplifted into what might 

Be thought of as god and the idea of how 
To get past even this without being killed, 

Taken away, for somewhere in the act of want 
Is being wanted, and we move 

Over the frozen ground in the presumption 
One of us will suffer and only one of us will be 

Exact enough, which is why I came alone, 
Following a creek back up its last place 

To see how far I could go, with the raven 
Who will not end his circle, the wind as it 

Turns through a gnarl of bristlecone. We were 
Never meant to be this close and to survive.