NIGHT'S OTHER COUNTRY
Before the great winds come and the white noise
of night, we'll cut loose from clocks and
stand in fields spread out to nowhere singing mantras.
Before the quiet waits in garments of good bye,
we'll bridge the silence of guitars
and float sound to its center.
Before hours burn to ash, we'll wrap ourselves
in wind, in raw strips of light,
our bodies wild as vines.
Before land's end, we'll swim in all the rivers
of the sky and drown in sunlight,
inhaling love as sweet as candlewick.
Before our final season, let it be summer
resonant with wings, vermouth of old sunrises,
mountains growing slowly in the rain
the light around us ripe and round
and if it dies out, let it be extravagant,
a marvel of darkness in night's other country.
MOUTHING SECRETS
since I have learned not to kill them
things have been easier
though I prefer my ghosts
to inhabit the dark
if they come by day
I'll leave all the doors open
I watch them mouthing secrets
smiling as if there were two heavens
I recall simple equations in the heart's circumference
each sum exquisitely fixed in my memory
women in sweet and sudden rages
for fear the future comes when they're not looking
children claustrophobic in their skins
fanning out like fish bones
younglings piercing love's delicate membrane
to taste the fleshy center
the family in the gray solfeggio of autumn
and the ritual smile
in their company the hours pass
until a spill of sun a sweep of shade
and under the ashen stars
my dead are growing old
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