Buttes in the Borderlands

In the dusky borderlands are two buttes
Each holding one end of a wire
Like restful breathing they throb in and out, forward and back It’s unclear what they are making
They say to me

–wait, this is a gift and it is for you

For months I watch them work
Their weighty movements are deliberate and tender The work ends
They offer to me what they have made
I tread forward and take hold of it

I clasp it and my cheek strikes the ground
What a strange and wounding gift was made for me I examine it closer and then I see
This gift is a future memory I never had
As in tears I reach again and cradle it near
I hear the makers say

–be still, be still
–in remaking remade 
–you are in a thin place 
–good care you must take