lucky clover
i call him for legion reasons
four leaves not least among
do four winds blow him round
and four wings do fold

he lushly grasses the naked floor

and blue the setting clouds and puffy sky
irises through white and green through eyes
shatterburst of firstscatter stardust
voice nebulae of forested winds
the doe harvest the buck harvest
wildfire screams and torrent

he soar swallows the static suns

tiny treeling
bell ringing bend of axe blade
true just sharp
steel carpet needle woven
torn feet or ravaged palm
his choice

he ravenous and sleeps by the faults

toothy sheep with so mean
while the in ebullient shadows
shadowing cries out into stardust clouds
criminal he
nibbling at his drenching freedom

he languoring longing lingering

moist mouths like pupils
of dust thirsting sacrament
lucky clover i call him
for legion reasons