Smithereens Press Chapbooks 'Three Red Things' by Christine Murray | Page 19

Jewel-box the claw the egg the jewel-box blue-burnt through

Jewel-box the claw the egg the jewel-box blue-burnt through

( and through) the glass shard remnant- an opulence of sky
shell did not conceal blue blue sky or this feather dream wind-wrought brought-down
its red-swollen out down in the mud a point in blue burnt through
wind caresses white secret-in
nor awaken to spring
I saw the claws the hands coming the frosted gloom
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