dihedral mum
wander calyx
under a
sunstorm
moving out
against the
wind
we would let
that go
so to say a
darker ruby heady dream
in bed doing it
la a reboxy
latter day antiphony
seek to play
that piano into mesh
sage blown in a
field
meager
allotrope of it
carbon in many
wingèd poly
flotsam cumming
in sweeter radii
lighter and
darker, now a now
flung up in the
rafters dancing
see to it she
walk for the
tower farther
in a heather
waste
buried under a
mound so
splay a flower
out in rays
that puffball
seeds updown
triple spiral
staircase
seeded rear, to
then let
helium flower
we a former ghost
aves
transform that
space
well, you’re
okay how
much money did
you get purple
sage
field he’d say
it
was real well I
don’t remember
that fold
a flock of
geese in
triangles I’ll
give you
20 that would
be
what the birds start with
Kevin Holden is the
author of Alpine (White Queen Press) and Identity (Cannibal
Books). His work has appeared in journals including 1913, Conjunctions, Aufgabe, jubilat, Colorado Review, Typo, and Little
Red Leaves, and was
included in the recent anthology The
Arcadia Project (Ahsahta Press). He is a graduate student at Yale
University and also teaches at Bard College.