As conscience to a fall
so too
the foothills
couched in series
of expanding rivers
each
a cometary dye
blueblack
like Tyrian educed
in ææa
a torment to
secretions
of a gastropod
its nodes and networks
wind in Appalachia
each vein
beset before the aegis
of the sun
The men who die here
die forgotten
Its gold
in shifting amplitude
a thing of beauty
cannot hold in dark
Every poem
is a chance
at a biography
yours
as much as mine
The poem must not
write itself
but in a strange design
must live through you
the aging architect
I too
have shined a light
and died
for want
of any color
to come through
