Draft of a Landscape

Circular graves, below. In

four-beat time the year's pace on

the steep steps around them.

Lavas, basalts, glowing

stone from the world's heart.

Wellspring tuff

where light grew for us, before

our breath.

Oilgreen, soaked with sea spray the

impassable hour. Toward

the centre, grey,

a stone saddle, and on it,

dented and charred,

the animal forehead with

its radiant blaze.