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Treasure Hunting

Treasure Hunting 
   Soon to be a low moon and elsewhere 
   fire. Lucky mountain shone copper 
   but not to pocket. Not that kind of angel 
   between maybe and the blaze. Asked 
   to hold my baby. Didn't envy gravity 
   to lug its chubby moon from under. 
   Dear dire said the radio and oh I was 
   its girl. Called it a silver un-bridge 
   a single listing trestle. Someday sounded 
   the siren of a false all-clear. May I? 
   My skein all un-spun under fire. 
  The spider alive in ...

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