On The Marshy Pastures

A man who walks in the black wind; the dry reeds

rustle quietly

Through the silence of the marshy pastures. In

the grey skies

A migration of wild birds move in ranks

Catty-corner over dark waters.

Insurgence. In the collapsing houses

Decay is fluttering out with black wings;

Crippled-up birches breathe heavily in the wind.

Evening in empty roadhouses. The longing for home

settles about

The delicate despair of the grazing flocks,

Vision of the night: toads plunge from silver waters.