Ore

~ A late April poem

ORE

-

You may exist again as soothsayer

well you may

flag the pyre, and you may prophesize


But dreams may bite back

as oblique clouds


And you may look upon the flame

when the dung hits

like fetid opera, you


You may scribe as sybils howl

and everything is born again


And everything is born again

from all the high places

a falling-for

this brine of apprehension


Symmetry …