A walk in the dark -- 'One time penny man'
A veil, dark ribbons, of water, fall
on pale poured milk, my silk moon shawl,
which wraps round frail wood, green stains all,
makes tail roots dirt down deep and crawl
in self-sought trails, till my soul sprouts tall.
I place my hand upon you, that you might be my poem
To be of glass — and cradled bowl, So silver scales — your flesh would show, And bask them bare — those fish I know, as wading thoughts, which wash — aglow.
A walk in the dark -- 'One time penny man'
