Where be woman man?
who kneels to rivers, lakes, and
drinks their reflection.

In a field of sand the poppies blow;
Over pits touched by ocean flow;
abaft a shade, hidden before some
shut-eye sun; And after a leveled shore,
Some petals show like crows on corpse.

And the moon, Oh how it stares down at us:
Like a half cut, half fallen birch tree.
We cry to such birch foliage:
That thirst these warm tears from us.

Darling, do you see? How the sea
is envy; it changes from blue to me;
plodding over pounded rocks;
palm to sole, fingers through toes;
Swim back to a reflection of me--
There the poppies follow me.

Hunger to quell:
all fill—fell into ocean floor—
there lions eat themselves.

Indigo midnight, shooting stars
and a wish to have a wish.
As desiring as darling, Mary Grace.

Only to wake to yesterday's anguish.

For even Robert Frost
did not see this road.
t'was like an encounter with Eurydice
taken away upon sight.

For the wish was seized as t'was granted.
So the old sky and his throbin' want,
sat him through star-free midnight.

A year away January twen'y-twenty.
The people of december
had changed their surnames.
Mr. and Mrs. Deceased.