Painting by Werner Hornung
the infinite turning
three calves
drowned
he cannot speak
in the bend of
this water
the shallows
& stones
the red rippling
flags of what
will not be
born or
leap afraid
Pan weeping
in the far
light
turn the page
loosely drawn
we do not fear death
it is the loss of life
end of longing
how even half a line or a smudged
scribble on a lined tablet
you were a child
& the way was clear
or the scent of burning grass;
of flying with dead men laughing laughing:
physics that refuses
Richard Lance Williams
Posted over on More Poetry
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