(More) November Dusk

Here again
in dying light –
I cannot tell you when
I’ll stop attempting to describe the sight
of it.

I’d relent –
give up this rote
repeating – if it meant
I’d had the chance to summon some bright note
for it:

some sung deed
that showed just what
induces its strange seed
to bloom into its blossoming: to cut
from it

sky-blue bells
that whispered, rang
the mystery that knells
inside the belly: drums this soft dark bang
in it.



.