Excerpt from Dawn Recital #3,
as transcribed by Orla Merrin
(beneath the amber reed horn, tuned to fog-pitch):

Before the first footfall of light, I stir,
In rags of grey I spin my verse unseen--
Each root a thought, each spore a trembling word,
My rhyme a breath caught deep in limestone’s spleen.

I speak of fossils folded into prayer,
Of winds that once named rivers after stars,
And how the hare forgot the fox’s dare,
But I-moss-mouthed--I remember who we are.