(I)

Thunder in the Oaks

Peter Alcock

Seas in her ears, by airy trees,
A girl as a gull goes,
Grace full. Breaks the breeze
Back. Grimm rose.

Steps too through tornadoes of time
To space spell bound
Where oaks hours intersecting mime
Magically masked what

None knows. That Knot.
Drums. Dark. The burning Imago
Roars in the glass ground.
The world is a war, a wedding, a window, there.

Rich as the rose,
And poised impaired in a time-tossed frieze,
A girl as a gull goes,
Seas in her ears, by airy trees.