diamonds and clubs, light misted fog, the dead
bowling they bat as a group
and the leader is seen - so early...
the pack on their backs, the fighters
through misty the waving - the pack in formation
I lay as if in surround...
all enmeshing, hovering...
all the animals laying trail
mild the reflecting electricity eyes...
tears, the life that was ours
grows sharper and stronger away and beyond
short wheeling - fresh spring
gripped with blanched bones - moaned
magnesium, proverbs and sobs...
diamonds and clubs, light misted fog, the dead