haley wooning
the heart’s patulous blue
eats its own bone, dreaded
with the silvered and rivered threads
of an ancient, far-off moon
one can get used to anything,
flightless birds,
boneyards or the gore-filled
horns of autumn
oracle, marble Cassandra,
which each dawn crudely
effaces and only
the women remain
to remember what was once
wailed or wept or said
blood, blood red
here falls the water of a death
and all of this
contained in the world of a palm
that dares to stroke
the earth’s mountainous shoulder
I arrive, I arrive
only to forget again
the drowned lands, my dreams,
my love and unimportant sorrow
blue, my body, an impermanent
handful of stones
as the fingers rot and wither
and wretched geese flit
and flock home
***
Haley Wooning lives in California with her partner and cat, Puck.