And  on any carry-on
 furtherable go as rain   respires   drifting
                                      into celandine ––– a shed of sorts of
              oxblood leather   hemic
where  hail  and  honey  meet   the tint is this:
       of rough boards   like   sticks laced  inter  and  among  each  other
                                             so many  so    many  as   the  splinters on a broken  branch
                                        indifferent  to  the order of their grain
                                                                       are   disorder  outstripped
                                                                            its ruction  in  a  long   exposure
                                       that  draws   the  otherwise
                                    outside  in  on   uncovered  turf,  hoofed
                                           where   the  living  stock  of  life stands living.

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