SECRETS

A mute voice rises

by resolute crows

on an ash tree

a poet between branches

stuck in the brushwood

of a smothered sweater

carrying wild roses

between his fingers

along the bee lined edge

of the grove voiced jays

with dark possibilities

of silent twigs fallen

by acorns on earth

you locate your love letter

implanted a decade ago

in the pollen's low clearing

covered with marigold

in the green absinthe bottle

still shut in a wanderer's space

of time's even equilibrium

held in my sheltered fate

of an indifferent noonday

that the wide worms path

will turn in my absence

to impalpable roads

from my cold sandal feet

covering blankets of secrets.