From The Midnight Charter

2.
I wrote a forest
I wrote a clearing
I wrote a cow eating blood
I wrote the long wait on a cliff as doctors
        came for the writer
I wrote draglines
I wrote suffrage
I wrote fish in canisters
I wrote hills rearranged by dry winds
I wrote a hymn to birth
I wrote documentary
I wrote relatives
I wrote wrens
I wrote a girl climbing
I wrote a scientific charter
I wrote a boy dreaming of wolves
I wrote there is no scenery
I wrote a mantis trap
I wrote ferns
I wrote salty plains
I wrote extinction by proxy
I wrote the bones of a horse circling
        a kurrajong
I wrote ice
I wrote extraction
I wrote temperate cells
I wrote a meeting of five streams
I wrote a flattened hollow still carrying
        skin’s heat
I wrote weeds
I wrote survival
I wrote core samples
I wrote the remains of love
I wrote a plastic beach
I wrote a book of lists
I wrote barricades
I wrote brambles
I wrote pines dropping out of season
I wrote walking into mist
I wrote pollution
I wrote protection
I wrote reading nets
I wrote in the arms of strangers
I wrote to remember the milky scent
        of sleep
I wrote moss
I wrote debris
I wrote without pages
I wrote broken mechanisms
I wrote a nest full of paper and woolen
        threads
I wrote snow
I wrote a sea fret
I wrote a coal cross
I wrote listening to storms
I wrote elemental drift
I wrote settlement
I wrote ash
I wrote absence
I wrote protea spikes
I wrote a cornered earth
I wrote baskets of evidence tucked
        into vaults
I wrote drones
I wrote colony collapse
I wrote a southern horizon’s curve
I wrote a catalog of dust
I wrote species decline
I wrote drums
I wrote data banks
I wrote staggered rows
I wrote a valley distributing animals
        and people
I wrote descent
I wrote nowhere to land
I wrote steel boulders
I wrote glitches
I wrote edges
I wrote what more has to appear
I wrote in the event of apocalypse press
        here
I wrote determine outcome
I wrote asymptote
I wrote figure