straw

my hair is straw spun through ginger mornings
my fingers are daffodil stems leaning on the garden wall
my heartbeat is thunderbolt ecstasy hidden in birdsong.

well, that's the cloud-covered symphonic dance
with woodwind and north wind and moist grass
that's the dawn-breaking twilight we count out

like beads.
the moon is a faint tarot card
guarding the western gate
ivory horns halo her brow.

I stand with mercury's wings at my temples
and a garland of summer wheat at my throat
I walk past infinite white crosses
then continue, until dawn's last echo.

   8.April.2005