Wednesday, February 5, 2014


Lean inspection
Sleet slid story dated
Prohibition of the
Fall see if you
Can travel in the
Wake of such circuits
To rejoice on
Restless ice still
Snow and mud sliding
Down the burning hill
Across the blanket sky
Premonition of the
Spring see if you
Can horn the lips of
Those that are asleep
To speak on Imbolc
Devour the finest of the
Wheat suffer fools no
Longer bought and
Sold light turning
Across a birch grove
See if you can stagger
The voice of my
Halfway sleep
Through the half-worn
Day to splash your milk
Upon the soil permissive
Cry the fallow charity
Of the swaddling
Lurching earth.

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