Axes
After whose stroke the wood rings, And the echoes!
Echoes traveling
Off from the center like horses.
The sap
Wells like tears, like the Water striving
To re-establish its mirror Over the rock
That drops and turns,
A white skull, Eaten by weedy greens.
Years later I Encounter them on the road---
Words dry and riderless, The indefatigable hoof-taps.
While From the bottom of the pool, fixed stars
Govern a life.