Supernatural

as when a loved child walks unhurt from a burning forest
into your open arms yet it’s not her
or a long growl lichen-haired
mixes its breathing with the familiar

or your thoughts are interrupted suddenly
by the disturbed voice of a dead mother
by a surge in the air of a lost brother
sometimes they come back    see through your eyes

look look    they say   at some lovely thing
a green fir cone    a jumping fish    they see it
or when I’m playing a flute    one they made
so we hear their singing clustering with us

or the voice of a caribou skin
as I cut and loosen it from the body
saying like this like this    do it like this
look how I give you myself still warm
...