A trumpet whistles and the slow, paced doily-work of discovery begins. Soft, snow-petalled dogs descend from higher ground to astound the dell 5 with the multitude of their white bodies' shuffle; So many crowd into the little hollow that the hand-held sky, time's mirror, leaks a salty supplication to their lust. They ground the dying grasses down to dust. 10 The ascending, coal-soft noses tender towards the pay; the fox works well their mouths of blackness into foam. Abundance will reward most laborious chase. Living feet stamp and paw the fertile ground.
From the collection "Youth Youth Youth"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.