‘the father saved the mountain yonder,
i don’t suppose he was the one of yours,’
she said smiling before she froze
and turned an oily shade of rainbow
opalescent in her age of old
below they craved the market haunt
but through skins twilight kissed i called
down unto a sounding stained wood
thrust out instead of shore
this pain king rides swimming horse
dragging out to the dust of rain
in shattered wrists and waves’ refrain
underground calling all winter hearts
to strike in the below again