red bowl of pale sun
universe of black, a hole for watching
stars and nothing else
once was, a white pulled from a blue pail,
the gowns of angel’s sky
young woods in snow, the heart of saplings — green.
affairs with grapevine on the sail
the rippling of the sky, a red bowl of pale sun spilled,
on the hill opposing, missing,
the deep den in the bare field.