Thundersnow
Reeds and trees in the river shine with ice,
wind in the bridges sounds a mountain hymn
as the grey sky weighs like a pressed stone.
I blurred into the snow as thunder opened
its pulse like a chrysalis
our mother carried across the tidal waters.
A peregrine falcon appeared for each hand
I used to clear the road with a broken shovel,
I buried the horses also, under a freesia wreath.
Winter cried like a bell in the clock tower
for our return to the rest of its barrow,
although the city disappeared a blizzard before.
The gales weathered my body like a bare cliff,
I sang as the spectral air filled my mouth
with roots then the branches grew back to you,
this forest path another country for our sleep.
Enough of the Plenty
Shore of stones hollowed the winter forest,
ashes fell like feathers from my hair
when I raised my face from last week’s snow.
The river arose to embrace the rain
like blossom and thorn cross your white arms
where the prying sun marked its sign of goats.
Paths of birds transformed grey air to jewels
and we cannot be the same
after incision of wings divided the world
back to night like the side of a codex queen
meets a candle burning beneath clear glass,
red fire the blood that scorched her true body.
And then the vanishing into the land
like a tracker’s footsteps
I followed still trying to find another way.
Torn books warm the bare dwelling floor,
although I seldom allow myself reminiscence,
having taken enough of the plenty.
Land Between the Lakes
A white barge motionless in distance upon white roughs
like a floating tower as liberated winds exult on the lake,
torrents cascaded over the breakwater like a spray of iris.
A dead green buoy lay on the rocks with its rusted chain
like a giant’s eye while I kicked clam shells on the beach,
I called the grey rainfall to come clothe me with your sky
and drape everywhere like another day of survival.
Silent eagles hunted the shore like a dark monolith
in their lordship, I stilled where the robes fell like shadow.
Tearing gusts carried me into abandon like a pine shelter
where I wanted to remain an instant more like waking
in the morning as sun suffered its body like a birth to rise.
