Sunday, February 8, 2015

Plainsong

[photo by Tova Olivia Pappas]
Plainsong

The penny dropped
falls to silence
where I remain for a long time
copper greening
at the bottom of an empty vase.
What fits me alone?
What to claim?
What to carry into wilderness —
a cliff, a ridge, a blind corner
antler splinted,
foxes at low windows,
pantry gutted by sly invaders.
Disturbed cats
flee to high places.
Feral we pace, unceasing
noon, dusk, dawn
blunder makes a music play —
riotous dance.
Owls & night-coiled snakes
outside the cracked glass
stare.

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