AND YOU, FATHER, FIGURED BY THE PARTICLES OF FOG
OF YOUR WAR, YOUR PATH OF OBLIVION
AND SENSISM.YOUR SCUDS FLITTING FROM EYES
TO HANDS, YOUR DAZZLING MASS THAT SPASMS
WITH REMISED SHOCKS.YOUR WAR.YOUR WAR.
THE DEADENED BOG IN WHICH YOU THREAD,
THE DEADENED BOG IN WHICH YOU TRUDGE,
THE DEADENED BOG IN WHICH YOU STOP,
A CINDERY COUNTENANCE AND
A BLIGHTED BAT AND
A SOUNDLESS STAIN;
A SACRED AND CRUEL AMALGAMATION
OF RAINDROPS PERCOLATED
BY THE ICY FILTERS
OF YOUR WARS

AND I, ASHES AND SILENCE NOW MID THE FERNS,
SHALL LET YOU BREATHE ONCE AGAIN.

YOUR MISFORTUNE HAS SO MANY PATTERNS