Surely the earth is a kingly vessel     buried
at Sutton Hoo     treasure--cups, coin,
crowns, bells, lamps, swords of high-
domed doom, of lambs, of snow, almonds,
rivers of golden birds, eyes
of roses, apples, silver palms, & clay
dogwood seas
                        & surely
all my turbulent & sinuous ways
are barrowed there     already

Seasons revolve     rolling     warming & chill
my body is     or was,     still
now     ever,     this
Brownian seasonal motion,     so angular-
insular, in muddy moats     of dust

Henry Gould | Island Road 56
Contents | Mudlark No. 6