G.C. Waldrep
HELLEBORE (PETERBOROUGH)
beneath their masks busking the water table
little divot-processions of blossom
I will let you shepherd my night-errand
I will let you etch the grief of my salute
—vastly intractable
one may feast, the single forest of the eye
one may reach for the night’s green map
a surface gloss, moving like a mist
beneath the tree-line’s brightening tone
the flesh, broken, rests inside the singing
eye, an invisible flood
come Empire, read the breath’s glass book
the skin-tight membranes of the houses
the psalm the mowers bleed right through
DAUGHTER OF MENDING,
COME INHERIT
now music must pray back another guest
heavy & pleated, biological in its defects
I will love faith’s broken city, I will
quench my Lord’s deep fire
for the orchard’s sake, its tangent chapel