in my
scary time
black letters
vanish in
the blue
the living
GIANTS
of Earth
are trees
keeping time by the thistle
to season weeds and their
sensual goals
a new kind of sparrow
shoots from my fears
chide it into a
cloud of itself
a golden needle
stitches my head to
my knee leaving me
aching along the river
STOP telling me damage can
ameliorate our lives
STOP trying to include
me in your portrait of
quietly dying poets

Original appearance in jubilat