when cloistered drabs of yellow &
orange
              frail
in the vestige of coming eve
so did a thrush call                the period immediately preceding
                                        it
a silent that became
                                             A twittering song
summoning the claws of
                           my curiosity to rake it
hoping to draw a crimson
                                                        bead
o
                         f

understanding to land on the pool of recognition
still it is never known
                                        nor
                 shall it
ever
                                 be