NEW ::: POETRY Apr. 2015 | Page 47

(i) 1 a.m. bird call, once he shrilly rasps. a murder of branches wrapped  around that flat reed blown like a raspberry in the silence of a court,  in the silence of a bedroom  with one lamp masking shadows to the abandoned walls that will be wrapped   in a curtain of mirrors, the next night, the next show, and I, writing this poem for no one am clinging to the slouch backed  shadow,  a life raft that will see me  to the door of an incomplete  dawn-rise  (ii) The magic carpet's camel hair eventually tires and I plummet into a dark,  soundless sea, a thread being torn buried in a pile of stones. To sleep is to drown and be resurrected in dream. Aegis, the breastplate of a protector  in this kneeling, pointing to the sky he says "each bead is his name,  each portrait is a walk among spectres",  the dead eyed glare  has never seemed so beautiful. But still, I want sprinkled salt on this earth, the walking place of ghosts  enticed by the scent of rotting, of ethereal soil. EVENSONG (iii) (v) Nightfall, the firstborn from the dead. Tonight I sit and witness  This night is a traveller, an illusion of sky  both the oak great and thorny small, a model of the universe where nothing  in patched cipher fabric roving underneath our pillows. accepts that nothing can spawn everything, with this I find a certain kind of beauty  Thief of magic, a cruel moon's ragged spasm of purple. in the beast of the backstreets, in the depths of the empty handed. Thief of resurrection, bury me so I can see the sky (iv) inviting Time by the sun, to a field of a rebellious Russian blue  Made as a bed, your loathed grave,  throwing dirt on a wreath of the dead,  box coat, framed in a glaze  of my window,  as delicate as blood. The dust of you had shadow turned to stone. and life is a somber shadow mopping the reflected water from the room GRANT TARBARD in my undecided shoes, in my Russian novel of a head.