she never quite completes hersentence but is always almost

severedby light from myself not knowingbut almost

but it is glittering now in thegaps between things

and the hour is quickened bycrows

and magpies coming straightfrom a meeting with misfortune

rewinding and grievingrewinding and grieving

it makes me shiver like a deadsoldier returning his empty clothesto his bride but she's marriedsomeone else

and hearing the lurch thewell-known slap of joy

nothing yet has a shadow every-thing is here but pale