"I want to step, sure-footed
as possession..."
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series
A quick list to poets featured in this issue:
Hour of the Wolf
Not rare enough, this
bulb
like
sickness in my
head, this owl sight
ravenous
for its
small pigeon. Sharp
as fever, a minute
hand
dismantles
the tender motor
of remove and lies
down
in the
wrist's gold casket.
I want to step,
sure-footed
as
possession, to the windowsills
which catacomb
this city
with
their cribs
of casements white as
bridal,
as a
breast of feathers.
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