You foretold taking notice/ of noise in the whirlwind/on a branch sat your gift of .language./Caught up in emblems/of disease rare and fatal/surprised by doctor’s opinion/your mouth roamed with sudden fever/you lost the means to distance/your rogue covens, your bald husbands/while you.raid Christian coffers./you’re armed.with the lore of the Vikings./Clenched in your.teeth, a weapon/the key to all.your deafness./Every role spins.in your orbit/alone in chance encounters/ temptation, a thing you savor/returns as victory’s escaping.
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Poetry in Motion 