Out of clouds flur owls.
White tinder, tumbling
through the gulf, black
earth their touch paper.
Lambs sing and suckle.
Irises shrink, tossing
and turning in their beds.
Night is gnawed by stags.
The blue moon, circus girl
with silver studs
and cherry lips,
bares a breast.
The chandelier hemisphere
pricks with stars, litters glass
over the fields. One owl tears
out of its dive, silently arcs
in suicide skyward.
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