Pace of Life

It is dry at the edge of the ditch with the dead leaves
And the old men’s cross stitched on your back
There’s more than one tooth missing to
this broken-down
Ratchet
That rattles
And shakes
It’s time to garner your gold
No one to help you
And our daily bread steeped in tears from the gutter
With a maggoty heart coming loose from your breast
A shape erased
A clamour dying
Shafts of remorse sticking to your hide

I’ll take such care to sear my veins
Wring out my zeal
Extinguish my flag
I’ll take so long to discover my flame
Perhaps on the track of a soft glimmer
A hand’s throw scattering bright facets
A measure of wine overflowing the skull's cup
In a distant time on the way home from hunting
Behind and before you
The narrow track
A zig zag flight in the folds of the ravine
A dead man’s hole hidden under the briars
And love’s destiny pierced through and through
Starvation’s wrinkles
Yield no ground
Endure no art
And on the howling wind my wing unceasing