Attend to shadows, wind and stone
as nightbats jaggedly askew
the river where you wade
as fishes sip the violet dusk
that falls upon the eddy whorls
then turn their silvered flanks
at water’s edge you’ll find a charm
engraved and sacred, smoothed by time
and touch — long-treasured, lost
then dream of lying tombed in shale
locked as a fossil pressed by dark
innumerable years
waking writhed and wet from terror
see the moon’s milklight on your thighs
your loins your fearsome heart
incarcerate of love
Posted in Poetry