Alchemical

Silence, like Gold cooked in

charred

Hands.

Vast, grey,

near as all that is Lost

Sisterly-Shape:

All the Names, all the with-

Burnt up

Names. So much

Ash to be blessed. So much

Land gained

above

the light, so light

Soul-

Rings.

Vast. Grey. Clinker-

less.

You, then.

You with the pale

bitten-out bud,

You in the Wine-Flood.

(Did it not discharge

us too, this Hour?

Good,

Good, that your Word died away here.)

Silence, like Gold cooked, in

charred, charred

Hands.

Fingers, smoke-thin. Like Crowns, Air-Crowns

around – –

Vast. Grey. Track-

less.

Queen-

like.