A white moth in the bay bush, power lines
Strung high to sing in the wind, a sudden dusk
Of cloud below the sun. Take these for signs
That see and are silent, deaf to what you ask.
In the eye an instant; after, in the mind
Forever, the mind’s eye, ages in a day:
Song, shadow and brightness lay a hand
On the heart, to gentle or to strike a blow.
Go back: at that touch the child you were takes flesh
Waist-deep in grass, your sins upon his head,
Or look about you: see the burning bush
And you, stricken with sense, upon that road.
Winds that went over you shall start like game
A future all alive now that it feels
The reeking heart in full cry on its dream
Through sound and shadow with a beast at heel.
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