Christ shining, Christ gold, dawn in a fragile frame

I decide on wide slashes—precise but hungry,/as if the soldier had wanted to peel into the heart—

I’m tired of the world’s incessant buzz and scrutiny, the news and the news of the news, the onslaught.

it has / become the norm / to claim your side / just scored.

There is a shadow swift as a rumor traveling the grass.

Little Double-Dutch girls chant / “birdie, birdie sittin’ on a wire—”