iuniperi gravis umbra

I think I've solved the riddle:

You don't exist. If I'm right,

Then you have to let me go.

A woman's distorted voice

Weeps on behalf of speakers

Everywhere. If we'd never

Spoken a word would this shade

Still throw itself over us?

In lower pastures heifers

Celebrate spring by eating

And staring blankly at cars.

Up here, a doe watches me

From under a juniper

And can't speak for not being.