Storm
Sing songs: sweet bells in the night
the blackbird and the kite
the tree-ghosts in the white
the storm and the morning light
dark and light
black and white
string and kite
all afternoon, all night.
Sight
Night is where we are.
Kite is what we are, string of lucid
white we are, black
light we are, dark outlined in
light, mourning storm of
white in ghosts, in trees, in
kite calling out blackbird.
Night bells sing violent, bare and sweet.
(First published in WordThirst)