be quick jack

jack be nimble & the high fires
are outdoors, when it is bone-
cold & overflowing with violent

Jack & be sure-
be quite sure the fires are out. the older
trees shudder at the

palestine of autumn & the
broad ice heaves
forward, jack & be sure-

that the roads are warm behind you,
that your ennobled quiescence glides
after the calyx of your muted

& jack be sure-


the stringent frost over the frocked
alpine robe of thinned grass is & is far here-
the blunt smack

of winter against the ashen statues
in the center of the room by which
you (jack) are sure & your

sure eyes
watch the
high fires
above the
bank of

& jack-
the clouds & ashen
statues have been
here since

grass first grew