“Mazurka”
Wooden cattle
in the gutter,
vivid swing of song
as image up the high hill
its obvious branches
animals flinch as they carry past
swing with into sight
sound flinches
to be seen
where sound goes
wend through this clunky sleep, to silence
vivid indistinction in distinctions, follow
I’m going to stay awake until it snows.
Snows that hold the Lady’s lake
the sword she holds the really real
held aloft a sword upon the ear’s eyes
a stone before the eye’s ears
her arm around me
to lead me to you.
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