17 292
17
Poems
V
autumn comes, with pocketsful of tobacco
bears doze in the warm
raspberry-shrubs of hunting-bullet lead
the sea evolves its photography of sand
I hear the logarithmic spiral inside its shells
the returning of all things
in your awake and hospitable blood
the delicate map
of white aurora
on which I’ll step with no fear
on my black eyelash-bridges