Easternight, the mind's midwinter
I stood in the big field behind the house
at the centre of all visible darkness
a brick of earth, a block of sky,
there lay a world, wedged
between its promise and its conclusion
some star let go a small sound on a thread.
almost midnight - I could feel the earth's
soaking darkness squeeze and fill its darkness,
everything spinning into the spasm of midnight
and for a moment, this high field unhorizoned
hung upon nothing, barking for its owner
burial, widowed, moonless, seeping
docks, grasses, small windflowers, weepholes, wires
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