Arcane wove the gray
Before morning,
A windscreen of fronds
And muzzling bees.
Birds weave they're own dreams
Littered with red berries.
All the words have dissolved now,
Disappearing in green *****
Avenging the clouds.
The day's final doing,
A rapturous melody
Of audible wind.
In this vale
I'll smoke out the sunrise,
Dawn limping along
On one bad foot.
As earthworm and frog
Form they're own pact,
Dividing the pond and
Lilly patch between them,
They share they're own secret with the sun.
We grieve our loss
As dry husks we sheave
From the plow.
We have assembled together
Here in our nightshirt,
To remember old Clancy's field of ghosts,
Quaking night dreams
Of voluptuous roses,
The winnowing echo
Gathers the storm.
Autumn waves dark wands
Chasing the gray winds.
Where will it go,
Can I go with it,
Will I remember
Who I am this time?