No. 7, Black Form, 1964
       

Raven desired a doorway to language
so he turned himself into a grain of sand
& crawled inside your glass of water.

He grew inside you until every color was influenced
by his thirst to speak. In this mythology,
pillars of smoke outside your window:

a dark planet perceived as the coming of night.
The clouded roman helmet is also a feather
& the faces have crows' feet mewling

from their eyes. Stare at an unchanging object
and you cause change around it. So prove the stars.
Remain fixed & the future approaches as liquid

& all is swallowed. So shows the river. Here we kneel
to drink. Here our skulls fuse like bottles in the fire.

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Copyright © 2013 Martin Rock All rights reserved
from Dear Mark
Brooklyn Arts Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission