Set The Hook Deep
This we remember.
Stretched out on the half-ruined,
in unlit clearings, we sing
of extinguished constellations.
Heads back, we sing into night.
A satellite falters on the wire,
and goes black in the belly of Cetus
as the orchard slips slowly into
the uncontrollable substance of forest.
in sight of no one,
stitching respite against
The dark between stars.
(author retains copyright)