Russell Salamon

I have been climbing the last few
rock faces, ice shoes on, freezing
assassin winds in thin thought,
barely any air up here in last
edges of planet.

Beyond this point the body refuses
to go, hung up as it is in weight and
hunger for real air, real apples, and
water under black ducks with white

I release the peak. So delicious you
are, smoky ear perfume, breathbursts
of exhilaration--you are the eternal
depth of answers.

Just as I suspected, a more elegant
philosophy of kissing your meadow
cheeks, scaring your grasshoppers
in my crude jump for joy boots.
I think we have solved existence
by being.

I think we are perfectly good answers.
Let's meet tonight in life, in shadows
of the state of god, shimmering on
surfaces of water. Bring a pack
of forevers in stunned sunlight.