365 Readings | 1 Rating

All Saints

The aide-de-camp tilts his horse

to the conifer stand and sees the leaves.

They are multiple as he and practice

the same art of partial disappearance.

(The miracle was hard to verify.)

Onward in the name is heard in the sea-lane.

Here is the narrow way.

Here is the signal flag’s claim;

the eel treads the ocean tables.

Something waking, stretched along its shadow.
Posted 11/18/11
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