Shatter ★★★★

Sometimes the sky is meteoric

Black sheen glossy obsidian dark

And I can see the hands reach down

From trembling inverted mountain peaks

As the framework rafters bow and scream

I see the silver fish

In the sidewalk gutter gardens

As they move the moon carves up their backs

Making empty nests for writhing birds 

That speak warnings in whispers

Of winter upon us

The dark is coming to lay down 

Like a lover at my feet to rest on my body

To pull me under and eat my thoughts 

Until I am empty and hollow and freezing

Until my head is just a radio

Filled in between with the cries

Of the sun and the weaving of the waves

Of the great invisible rivers 

That run through my fingertips 

And point at the north star

Everything is slipping downward 

Some intimate black box hold

Like barbecue lenses and train turntables

Catatonia speaking cotton

Bach and the invisible harmonica dreaming

Quilt weighted beaches 

Remembering wet sheets and drowning

And then you say something
And the world sets back in

Everything clear