i,
as the timidity of morning relents, the
whorl of ashless stars
climbs up into the gut
of heaven to teach it love – relents
the crawl of moon as
it detaches from each
world the peripheries of relent give
mark give stone give
the vapid liquor of gray –
ii,
the thread of beginnings is
taught the how of
howl & the hum of
humans – lost in the sunsome
day, the riverbed
listens it trades
secrets – what morning knows
it secretes while the
thrum of nettles bakes –
iii,
the fulsomeness of each torn leaf
voids the argument of
dark touch the
thorn of thunder & it will silence
your need reach into
the budless sun where
creatures of light scatter into
a priestly muttering
of the whoness of wonder –
