you've no business burying dead under
birch
or fawns tail
where red frown becomes
clear sumac dawn

cascading us forward
in horrible emptiness

wanting that knock and stomp
upstairs to be
ghosts
not you or me
finding
poisoned roots
with past
wilt decorating leaves
in October

meeting

funny Large sun flower cot
huge blackberry pillow
and a god dam mean windmill
turns old at the Gandy ranch clearing
where 100 baby ticks crept
past the very best places for a banshee ambush
ruining the third wican wedding this Fall