The third piece of a group of twelve written at a desk fronting shuttered windows. The series originally appeared in the anthology Terra Firma.
As they rise we see the change
in motion, abstractions returned
like wingless birds at the edge of a garden
where only shadows grow. Or, closing,
the declination provides a glimpse:
false densities, sudden
claims to the wind’s eye,
a stuttering at twilight,
the symptom of another mistaken turn.
Their lines, divided and concealed.