Obliging black arms, their crooked
specter fingers, cut freezing as
they reach for winter greys, blues of skies
untouchable. Shaking, bending- dance,
mulish winds. Sweep lands. Violence
Art, framed with my eyes green as last
summer’s carpeting, where they were rooted.
Embroidered. Weaving native life.
Grounds milled, the purest white hush to
lull earth. Charming. Persistent as