a warm panther lifted me in her teeth,
carried me upward the rock face’s jut
and dropped me cool on the white tile floor
to somewhere else.
her golden eyes and mine–
sticky palms and small wet dimes.
We watched the shredded sky
laboring towards dusk and lowlands
rolling patiently under tractor greens.
she was lying in a pool of chestnut red, a pool
half-dried, half-still. How could I lift her
silent spine and opened-eyed, as she for me
to somewhere else?