~ For JH~
Even the sands awake –
We have seen colossi bloom and disappear,
a word’s breath cloud a promise,
and eggs of quartz hatch traces
a wind of blades cuts clear again.
tremulous as longing at the bed of boding –
love rocks the posts and shells dropped
along the shore remember faintly
the morphine-laden deep.
We are immersed as sleep –
the hosts of dreamers banished
to a threshold like guests:we stand in the long hall of midnight,
Föhn fevers waiting for the sun to strike.