SPOILS
go through
that
town
littered with light
and
i’ll follow on a two-rutted
road
embezzled
of
all direction.
probably,
i am lost:
you
are,
at
least, confined.
and old.
and ardorless.
and unfragmented.
there’s
thunder in the cloudless
sky, so
maybe
it’s
not thunder. we
think the blue is chipping off;
all the earth is changing color.
the union
of earth and sky
is
dripping over
the top of a glass
and we are
always silent.
i know
that foot-
steps
are not
what you like to hear
in your shadow.
mine
only make you turn a-
round
and muscle
your face. there is
no wind left to color
your
hair or expunge memory,
and you’ll
pass
through
the
town’s limits like a defeated army
and i’ll
follow:
unseen or un-
recognized
like
a crow.