Sheldrake, a magician
—the mandrake
a mythic plant whose shriek
drove listeners wild....
this lake, Sheldrake
and its windsong-heartswoon
counterpart, Skootematta
with Shabomeka &
a whiff of Buckshot Lake to boot,
waves lapping the
prayerful stones—
water's edge
the earth's bones....
Lakes an art-form
hardscrabble scribble
shorthand on a blessed land.
The mysticism of basic shadows,
occult shapes of ourselves.
[12]
Animals And The Stars
Crickets are a strange place,
cricks of dew hemmed
with hoar-frost
mushrooming by a door.
The glens are fashions of a loom
eerie pads
are nightly rooms.
The padlocks
remove the key
as grass-hoppers
keep the meadow free.
A twilight world
along the edge
at rapier's length
this light, this point
at end of the void.
[13]
And Then Some
The anger past
as a cat arches her back
a thickly rich robust anger
blackest coffee in a thick
earthen mug
this thug & mugger with sufficient
silk thread.
Yet the assassin is back
with catcalls & hiss
cortisol adrenalin that
lunge like that cat
rapid-fire along the back garden fence
this patio stroll
my senses black.
And time luxuriating like a thick veil.
That dread pack with
anger in the lead
—what prevokes it—
obviously really
a pack of violent
running lies—wolves
hell-bent running over
intent on deceit,
thievery, then some.
A narrative with a long reach.
[14]