from The Evidence & The Evermore
October Heart
A gull’s cry draws blood
like a bramble crown—
fibrous shrieking cries
thick enough to form
a plaited noose.
What vessel can contain
it’s cry? A chalice raised
and emptied out though
blessed would split in
keening chimes sharp
enough to raise the dead
or to sever a proffered
wrist. A diamond bowl mined
from the deepest vein
would fall to ashen grain
silty enough to smudge a
raised forehead at a
Wednesday altar rail.
Granite is the heart of
a seagull. Dull enough
to bear its dumb beating
amidst the passing hours.
Embedded—an opal amulet—
she sits with open eyes
inside the sharp purchase
of mornings chiseled in grey.
What heart then can contain
that awful cry? A heart
that chimes out the chiseled
hours....one....two....