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