~tilting the axis




my body remembers


there is intimacy

in a reticent sky

how it sounds like

the blues

               noted and


some song of drunkenness


in flattened C major


twenty-eight suns have

surrendered to february

crossed over the equivalent center

since we began to equate

the dynamic in counting clouds

               like doves

               and wedded bliss

an old moon

once perfectly round

has split in half

held in place by the grace

of gravity

cradled by persuasive darkness


secrets of light seduce

without warning

               time holds beneath dew

gathers on bones of morning

finds the soft edge, a hushed meadow

deer bedded in ragweed

               and prayers

where uneasy air startles

these drowsy fawns

muscle to flesh, reducing the reach

that space between mother

and child

the doe knows

wind is made of intuition


rearrange memories

              cleave the chest

acres of eyes

will dampen the stones

               rattle stars in a nightsky

a small voice

a thousand wings


 ©  lori hamilton


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