More on: trials

Here, in the face of the made, Abandon me. In the dark Where firelight licks Stone walls, begin. I draw My spear and take most Careful aim. Draw the buck The spear is looking for. What if it’s all In my head? I can carry The whole mountain there, The striped cat stalking My shadow.…

I am much comforted by ordinary things by the whalebone covers of my missal sadly worn and warmer to my hand than amber or by the cry of gulls greedy as pagans for the bread we throw on seas so troubled and so terrible I am amazed God made them except I stand upon a…