Monday, December 16, 2013

THE SCYTHE



Poet Henry Kanabus (photo by Mike Tappin)





The wind accounted for all
it had shattered
                            (night-dancing
in lace prints of bone)

We confuse its wisdom
with the anger of cats  .  both

lay large upon the wheat

We realize the urgency and notify
the heliotrope

                          It is waving its arms
in a thousand different parodies.