Did a big brain      raise us
                into mountains
to range
                over the valley,
to see
                the approach      before
whoever it was      knew
                they would walk
a path
                between dusk & dawn
half-awake?
                An eye squinted,
& sex as idea
                      made the lids dance.
Now, the brain
                pauses      on the edge
of ascension      or surrender, one
                sleepy hand
pointing at a totem,
                    & the other weighing
a stick
                or jagged stone.