Sunlight surreptitiously
slips out from under rocks
to reveal the age of trees.
Dust beneath us,
dust above.
Pale green bloom on leaves
like spores.
Winged half-moons
in symmetrical repetition.
why so sweet
why so yellow
sun and moon
The beast rises from the swamp.
Tattered cannibals
devour this darkness.
Civilizations rise and fall
by the edge of this fruit.
When will we pass this way again
calling out the names of cattle
on the last handhold of sliding earth?
4/21/ 1986
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