riverboat chorale

i pulled the leaks clean out that white fleece hovering
thrown the reeds clean mounds in the dried grass covering


sew them good
sew them good mind the greens


larks bringing clouds to the fulled
mouth of tennessee
deleware river the catskills
full-send forever seeds

sew them good
sew them far south roxbury

let my girl go proud let her go in the spring
when the ferns come on 

innertubers laughing in the breeze

where the distant dawn drove dires and fauns
wild streets beckoning

miracles
singing rounds sweet st louis

the carillon

in the islands north on a crescent of day i took a long road that wound where they stayed, through the winded leaves that slept on their stakes on a break in the rain. on the way stood a door clear and tall as the trees, a great golden sail that loomed in the halls and it breathed, and it walked and it shimmered and spoke to me. like some far away thing that watches all the time and lives on in a stream. 

carillons a musique, they made a road that winds south at eastsound.

ive heard stories about the key that lies in the center just off the beach.

but unlike the trees you know time never sleeps, so as the sail died i stalked through it and knew it was mine. because those words that still stand, though dead others who died, those words were a mans and the end of the night.