My Trajectory

I took the brick and pinched it into a pebble.
I took the feather and sharpened it on a strop
to bleed the air.
I took the creek and snapped it across my knee.
I took the slope and rattled it along a picket fence.
I took the rolling meadows
bursting with flowers and weeds
and pressed them flat
and shuffled them like cards.  
I took the branching network of burrows
and draped them over my shoulders
like a robe.
I took the village in my palms
and held it over the coals
and turned it, and turned it
and let it drop.
I hurled the country straight up into the air
then covered my head with my hands
as it fell to earth.