Inside the red canyons of the human heart 724 trillion blood cells
fly by carrying their bead of oxygen
Who am I to say
what is impossible?
Sheila’s mane was silver and her tail flowed like water when she ran.
Two miles away the enemy’s child turned to see
her flash of light and felt his eardrums shatter
Now is the weight in the hand of ripened daylight
She draws the outline
in the air between us
Who can see us?
I lived the pastoral summer with her in the squat house
in the middle of the field where the sky
liked to rest its heavy blue foot
Then a thousand years from now
cumulus clouds will billow open
like white chrysanthemums
extinct beauty sailing toward myth