of force, the forked tongue
and the engine stands panting on less known terraces
bears down on each strand of air.
sail me sooner
shine me down.
or let the glint reach the ears heart of another
steer the far away hopeful defiance to sit
on the crest of another’s back
and wail, whisper, motion.
to see the pause in another’s eyeing gesture
and know the shadow of the cloud is moving
the flash of the firefly knows all obstacles
runs across the long knives of the grass
and strokes a red tint to each object of force.