The Clock-Cleared Echoes / The Clock-Cleared Echoes Marked My Alike

[jeff harrison]

-- I WISH SENSE IN LOSS, and wish that 
sense in mountains, frost, poised moonlight 
above ornamented shivering of thunder 
between those mountains... dim me, though 
I see the vermin at my toes are hard at work 
syllabling bright the scales of sirens singing 
at Pluto's ships.. lyres, rough, pressed they cruel 
though sometimes coy & polished near to grated 
then again all animals are fanciful before my glass, 
when wearing my air... oh how billows... 
oh, the thunder's ornament? -- we drained 
its sparkles for our charms (censure 
that back to childish hours; Oh! how 
billows your gleams, memory! standing 
atop that hill not long ago, I had the chance 
to exclaim, of the sun shining on my barrel, 
"on my musket's throat day does languish" 
before finding myself here to -- not com- 
plete it, but to say "I wish sense in loss" & 
look over my shoulder for the ball, the report, 
the thunder's ornament... the thunder's ornament? 
we drained its sparkles for our charms 


		
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