Through and Through

Tooth is the jawless maw

in beast’s paw, shining like clouds in cloudless night

that can taste the way it dances

smell the way it follows in the looking glass light.

That can feel with frozen breath,

hear the merrymaker’s drink,

and see the voice of sweet mockingbird’s trill.

Dying dusk light—sweet scent for the ages.

After Adam through the hills of Eve’s Trellis

No, stench of dusk, harbinger of decay . . .

the rotting of trees, through orchards of black.

Is the mission? The prize?

It cannot—boughs of the pine trees are shed.

RHS Garden Wisley, August 2014.

Through the red trees and into the pines,

where shining sigils of winter nymph’s harp,

hear their music—beautiful yet mourning

It leapt through the dreams, snagging Adam’s thoughts

As a fawn in the shadows, watching in the dark.

Until with the morn, will moonlight’s dark creep.

A molded bell, mocking his call with silence

and he must see, before he can hear.

And the shadows sheath their glares,

buffeting his  statement with rising clarity and marking the path laid bare.