He lies down and lets the rain
silhouette his form on the moist earth.
This is worship of a different order
bleeding stones to dye a river red.
The calendar is a snake scaled with
leaves flowing the long season.
To kiss the mind of winter throw snowballs
blown into wraiths by the wind.
Black holes staring from cairns and trees
invite the color of flaming rowan leaves.
With naked hands forge ice into stars
to constellate the day’s radiance.
Stone walls herd clouds of sheep
across history’s green acres.
Their wooliness a siege engine
of implacable fury.
