Rippling fires of fine cloth
Daubed about the river,
Fluttering as daft moss reads
Through thin canyons of torrent
Where the flowers silently grow.
Goodbye savage feather fable
Reeds into rock sludge,
Rotund charcoal hews and eye
A branch quivers in solemn sighs
Crawling sky heavy she flies.
Gliding broad deaths eye
Clutch the clouds alive,
Barley tongues approach aside
Jocund fingers all along the ashen rye
Still faint I heed my eagle cry.
Silhouetted a soundless air
Clasp a clumsy pirouette,
Dragging her mawkish claw
through the chill night sand
Lusting fossils break into agonies.
