Sport 40: 2012
or dawn
or dawn
my hand is a dead fish in the morning
it drifts on your chest
sideways the night made
a heron take wing
my eyes two swinging canoes in
the short waves of daylight a dead
fish lies on your chest like a nightmare l
ike a fish out of water you gasp twitch
back from the brothers the one
is called sleep they
paddle with strokes in unison they
tie a sparkling string
drop for drop into the river
my hand is a dead fish
in the morning silver the scales in the rushes
uncaught it swashes on your chest
on the bank the rushes bide their time