When will heart rise and address surrender
painstaken by inroads; sorrowing antiphon
towed by a river mastery underground,
swarmed with a confiscation of angels
lay down in what slack adoration?
The head is imbued with the sound
of a nether touching of distances, the far lines
of outreach that portray a nomination
as of birds gathered on a singing sweep
of a dead calm dreamed into place,
but the tree is a moment staying
which unrest visits like a summer fly
in sweet thunder; charged with remembrance
water is unreined from a stone.
William R. Leach (1954-1999)
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