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Light Night
A tree, enamel needles, owl takeoffs shake, flapping a sound and smell of underwing, like flags, the clothy weight of flags. A cone of silence stuck with diamonds, the watch she hunts, the frayed band broke. It was a black night. Dawn walked on it, the sun set its heel. She won’t find: a boundary of marsh, the island in the wood. Stoop, dove, horrid maid, spread your chiffon on our wood rot breeding the Destroying Angel, white, lathe-shapely, trout-lily lovely. Taste, and have it. In a rain-dusk dawn, the clearing edge, the wood’s fangs, the clear crystal twist of a salival stream, announce you hence. Tear free of me, mountain, old home bone, down sheer fear tears mossed boulders bound me, pool, deceptive, trout-full, laugh and chatter of finch and pecker, gargle my liquor skin I catch your face on. Scar a look and leave. A rust plush daycoach unfathers me. A field of crosses. Let iron clang iron.