She glimpsed death,
it's tangled,
black birch branches
caught her as
She shone in clusters
segmenting in the wood
wrapped by
spiney hands
dripping sap
street lights
and horns
below the dirty
window sill
blanlets and brassier
clasped to her chin
she saw death,
he sang wind
into her ears
empty meters
flashed for coins
below twitching legs
that ran out
into a black field of
starched stalks
his moonlit limbs
stretching to embrace
her,
closing,
sticky with residue |