PHANTOMS
I. Shadows are wide
but my eyes are closed
I sit on my back
as though under a weight
of stones
The stars are caught
in the holes in the sky
wearily I walk
through the sand of my mind
Hewn by the same sure stroke
my furniture, within me and without me
rolls into the abyss of sleep
And I, unguarded by
my daily torch of night
am caught unguarded by
this gray delight
The shrill fathoms,
amber fields
dreams embarking from their distant isles
the ruccous of a revenant
the calling chorus of a fingered lute
the lulling charm of a house fastened in a den
the scouring cross-path of a frenzied mouse.
II. I caught myself from my imperilled there
and leapt, and finally am here
unguarded though my flying thoughts now seem
undreaming from my lazy heart's regail
I fly assured that days
of these fast-seeming wounds
and shivered appeal
will deck the shadow
from his winter main
and bring about and soon congeal
the summer's brightly ringing
sound, of spring.
Poetry 2006
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