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 ...
