Downed from behind
by an inch of arrowed flint,
the grass-caped hunter
lies wide-eyed.
Wind-blown
hornbean pollen
and falling star-flakes
dust the glaciered hollow.
Hemorrhaging memory melts
the Alpine steppes
where a copper ax
once flashed lightning
and heated einkorn grains,
hard as trek-strained tibias,
bled steam starward
over drifting embers.
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