you struck moose-hide drum
with a match stick as long as your arm.
sonic fire
baptized our chapel.
i tip-toed through incense.
you opened your mouth to chant
but the moose sang through you.
the hymn undulated like honey.
i couldn’t lick it.
i don’t speak moose.
thunderbird rumbled in the beat.
my cheeks burned.
i perspired profusely.
my tears
doused my face.
i realized:
we are brothers.