cledonomancy: (foraged under a streetlamp)
"Stitch by stitch in the shore's seam I measured fog's rotation. Thick loaves
of air rounded stone cliffs. Waves bit gulls in a loose crochet. As you plucked
a clear path of allegiance into your small environs, the lesser nighthawk
foraged under a streetlamp. Had you seen the faces of the holy?
Had you overthrown what lifted you? For hours
I'd mended the black pages of water and the creases
in the sand where you disappeared. From my sleep
in the raven's throat I saw you walking in the sun. I've forgotten
the depth of the lake. The liquor swill of reeds under your skin."

-Maureen Alsop, 'Cledonomancy, Sleep in the Raven's Throat'

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