• Kimberley Pittman-Schulz

A Language Larger Than Words


“And this, our life . . . finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in every thing.”

— Shakespeare


Nurse Log


Steam floats up from a prone body,

an old log, mossy and damp.

I go, lie beside it, whisper,

let’s be organic together.

Out of the lichened wood, deer ferns

and the thumb of a coyote bush take root.

Fox scat in the shape of a cross

marks a passage.

There is a language larger

than words, the way breath rising

licks everything on its way up

and won’t be contained.

A varied thrush thuds to ground,

his voice a wooden whistling.

Red mud stains robe hem,

rumpled cuff, exposed wrist bone,

palm to redwood corpse.

Quiet again—just this

scuttling of cool air through weeds,

my fingers flushed with touching.


from Mosslight

FutureCycle Press, 2011