To a Cancer (... not the usual one )

(sprightly, nonstop, and breathless)

festival brights

dark hours

push throats an

eyes o'er

edges fleet an

crookd o

lept sky bound

right into the

pocket of air

you made

a pillow ;

how lifelike 

then i

dreamt of

cobwebs swept

aside and rent

 to silk ,

left they

 the corner

thankful for

the scattered

time they hung

with you o scolded child-winter ;

beams caught the net aghast of light ,

the space between leaves ,

blood's forgotten host of pulses beating throng

to burst of colour,

thrill of song-

catch me fair

on ice i fall

when water's gone .

An ache-less chill ,

unbodied sight -

the roar of latent herbage;

and i a silver Isle

midst the dusty light of dawn

...