what rounds a hard day
as if the slow knife
pops suddenly
an innocent skin a hushed wincing
shame of what falls
shadow & burning truths a genuine turn
of grief
cut in a boat
untethered does it matter
to the far shore
the press of a foot Clothed in roots and fire
Clothed in roots and fire when the dead are buried
& their ghosts sleep
in stars the light still bends at the stone
& sorrow grinds the price of blooms
how she
carries the question we cannot bear Clothed in roots and fire
Clothed in roots and fire fire