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spring's channels There
where lately water
coursed under over-
leapings of deer, dry
stones
turn to curiosity,
heave, shifted, while chill new
water creeked
straight down from
winter cuts strange
paths across
flat
flesh, through thatch
of past autumns, slanting
shakes of farmland.
My own land now is at that crux,
shudders
torn thunder
as I lie crosspointed over
your
bed dying hard
back in one part to meet
your inpouring; as I tilt
to
the drying of what's over, wrinkles in
the
land where seasons cut
paths no longer chosen
by new water.
Contact
Oiseau: General
Delivery, Argenta, BC, Canada, V0G 1B0
The art on this page is "Crosspoint,"
acrylic on canvas, 2004, 30" x 40", $800 Cdn | 