beside it did all

great things come

back to avert some

near darkness that

laughs at you

through its strange

throat; instead i am

somewhere still a

text of pride and

should soar on

and out through

you the way

a numerous lover

lingers at sea

 

 

 

          

         *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

unknown fled and

always flown the

thousands through

gate of day, unheard

eyes made from

the nest you feel

in — again you

breathed the

stars angels

lacquered and

loved honing out

of loyalty for

summer guests

dear to you

 

 

 

 

 

        *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

rain sits lit a

forest humming

legs unleafing

everything frozen

as a lake — love

is said to belong,

exist there just

hooked and held as

mad truths within our

art — leave to senses

chained those that

understand, take sky

for faithfulness

where you imagine

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

three poems from Phoebe 33.2 [Fall 2004]

© Tom Orange