Submission 33525

You in your red coat,
lying there
fledging your wings in the snow.

Calling down angels.
Calling them in.
Calling...

And there they were:
all eyes and feather  —
wheels, and wheels within.
Grinding out their praise
amid the flame that will not burn.

You fed them blood and hydrophane.
We sang with them awhile
to welcome in midwinter now;
to welcome in the winter
and the promise and the turn.

You came to me — I drank the starlight
pouring from your mouth.
Then home beneath a silent sky:  
the Hunter rising in the South.


December 1980, Abney Park