In The Dark

“In the night,” he rites (I mean rites so don’t correct it)
“how easy is a bush supposed a bear.” What did I know?
What did I know? I suppose him ranting from Holy Trinity
in Stratford late nights (no letterman then).
The cannon bursts—even steven—gets dark, darker, darkest.
“I meet my shadOW” at the Belsize Park Underground station;
it’s 1944 essential darkness fastened in le coeur, whatever
and wherever that is, comes forth at NW3. Yes, Fyodor,
2 and 2 do equal five; even Serge Gainsbourg concurs with
that dark holy (no correction please) space at Lilas. Human
shredders searching the British Museum piles at Colindale
for remnants of "down among the dead men" by HF. Yes,
teddy r. bear, “In a dark time the eye begins to see.” Thanks
for letting me know. Holes, not wholes.

These Days

These days

find ing

in sides

out;
light
stretching north
climbing mornings
into nights, burning
eyes dimmed
with winter dark;
bending ears
tuned to winter’s hums,
I rub
melting snow
from your
lashes (wet);
you crack
the last icicle
from my chin.