arcs and keystone wedges hold up the reverberating font at the end of the aqueduct
holy –
slicing trout speared on green fronds smoke
holy –
new blooms bounce down browbeaten stones
holy –
Chase the path empty and remember
holy –
yesterday my father called and cried to me for the first time
holy –
today my mother called and worried aloud about the night
holy-
holy is the benign suddenness of the sun shining on a son for the first time
alone
in a country trying to kill his beloved
holy –
holy the beloved
holy the boys in their flower beds still afraid of their own wanting
holy –
holy the boys who leave prongs in their ribs
holy the boys who remove the spears
let their blood water the chrysanthemums
holy-
holy-
today is the first time i circled an entire lake twice without entering
today i carried extra ointment waiting for the wounds to open and bleed
today i counted the stones as they dropped into my pockets
today i looked at water and did not come up drowned
Cover art: “Infrared Dreams 3” by Jason St. Clair
