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Icicles Tine Barnward from the Barn’s Shallow Eave
- University Press of Colorado
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Icicles Tine Barnward from the Barn’s Shallow Eave Barbwire fence extending field to thicket from which the flushed birds shed icy shells. That I should climb each tree before I torch it. Tongue and bone abandon me for light resisting alignment. If this is lament, drown it behind the dam made with leaves by the careful feet that mudded them there, severed now and soldered to the barn-boards, sun-bleached and split, this hour into halves stacked in cords. The fence through which wind blows snow enough to bury it. Would that I envisage things real only after I say them so— against the knife’s tip, I slip its pale skin weight of ash essential to welcome— as I dress the bird its feathers scatter. Ecdysis or wind in which sound begets particulates of sound I have not yet lit to watch the flare and flare. ...