Walker

I am a good walker
Walking mile on mile through blue air
It goes everywhere I go, pale green
Winter wheat under bare heels

Rivers of wind, high oak wind
Pine wind, then low down
It rushes through blades
Filaments arc with held green flame
Currents pulse through fields

The field stammers green and gold, sheets of flame
It sparkles in my mouth like wine
This distilled lucid blue around me, filling me
I whistle a hawk, a hawk whistles me
Sings a song to sustain him in flight forever
No thing shall die as I walk