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Little Errand


I gather the rain
 

in both noun
& verb. The way
 

the river banks
its flood, floods
its banks, quiver's
 

grammar I carry
 

noiseless, easy
over my shoulder.
 

To aim is—I think
of his mouth.
Wet ripe apple's
 

scent : sugar,
 

leather. To aim
is a shaft tipped
 

with adamant. Angle,
grasp, aim is a way
to hope to take
 

what's struck in hand,
 

mouth. At the river
flood so lately laid
 

down damage by,
geese sleep, heads
turned under wings
 

wind tests tremor
in like archery's
physics shifts
 

energy, potential
to kinetic: flight—
 

but not yet :
 

this grammar's time
to string a bow, draw
taut the air, send rain
 

from quiver to verb
to aim to pierce
 

the scent of such red
 

flesh. Hope's arrow's
anatomy : thin,
feather's fletching
 

trembling, it
crests to end
 

in brightness.


Brian Teare

Companion Grasses
Omnidawn Publishing


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