Why does the faceless wind-tree
listen to river's quiver
cascade the twists into skies
of flecks valley's
that invade our times
can rusk
and rain
and pollute stained flow ?
How trucked are long
passengers the fractured dark
that shift and crack the mirrored pole ?
Yet pale is the dawn
of wails and careless grow
that hump where
once exhumed the grave
buried inside the silent glow