Sacredness and Light

Sacredness and light fill the oracles

Of every halfmoon rescuer’s

Respite,

It was true the dogs and foxes cried

And split the night beyond the northbound

Houses block upon block;

So only noble staring courage came

Without a distant pale

Delight.

The yester years deliver drowning

Words and wounds and half-made

Smiles we never will remember;

The forward tears rescind our

Burdens they

Could scarcely bear

By way of visions fear

December.

Especially she captivates the

Shaking she denies

The need to

Break the stifled glory might;

The precedent resurges only once

Or twice a night instead of

Hiding sinking sliding out of

Sight.

So go without, decide what you must

Sign and verify; forsythia will not bloom

For five more months or more; hedges

Will not harbor blossoms hallowed

Out their colors

Layered row upon row;

Leave them now, their branches empty

Arms aside abandoned lulling fall

Of winter tide and evening quiet long

And wide.