Rise Up & Purify the Sky Moon

The thin model of a spider’s soul collects green pollen & shimmers

most sensually in the first hour of sunrise

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Beveled glass portholes cast subtle arcing rainbows

they perambulate with painted shapes of change

& make surprise appearances on the page

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There is much to admire about light

its freedom to play slowly, to acquiesce & collaborate

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Last night artillery shelling boomed in shorecloud phosphorous

proud simulacra of real assault elsewhere

violence the model men in particular have made, in which they are caught

a feedback loop of isolation that destroys what nurtures

& abandons itself to greed & speed

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It is difficult to imagine how lonely we will be

if the rising in the east evokes no chorus from the birds

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Cooper’s Hawk, at war with no one, a satellite who can see faster & farther

gives its shrill five-times call from on high

past—present, future—future—future

past—present, future—future—future

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Skies are blue with a rimline haze of spent particulates

science says to hold our breath & wait to breathe

until the sticky poisons have settled

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The new moon has already begun to polish the air:

rise up

that we may be together

that we may be safe

that we may be peaceful

& see our own soul’s shapeliness in the nimbus-cast of one another