from Recovered Poems, 5

5.

with what swirling

of litter and leaves

is the news received

when bells

and slate-clad steeples

speak at clouds

and hammering

fall winds rap

a rug of cold

transparent skin

teeth exposed

chrysanthemums

gripped by the stem

to break russet

and gold

seeing you asleep

freezes me to think

I am one long speak

and no words to come after