As/Is







1.18.2006


Cadence

As we fall upon this ground,
till our shallow dimple down
through charcoal shoal,

form the walls,
our concave bowl-

burial of
furnace-glazed
soul.

Peculiarly divine, our tomb,
flame undone in soiled room,
brilliance of our lamps dispersed

into the twilight
of our birth-

cadence of
the heart
of earth.