The fence buckles
By a camellia’s weight
A cloying honeysuckle breath
Calls wilted petals falling
As if long drought surceased
In a tea cup’s avalanche
Jawbones prow the earth
A grimace clowned and sidelong
As if this were once a circus tent
Not a marshalling yard
Where brays anxious met
The impelling silence
Of hammers and serrations
When the earth uproots
In trenchant cascades
The ivy hideous, shivering
A wave, bent on the fulcrum’s back
In upheaval’s raw display
I wonder what pretty monsters
From desiccate honeycombs
In husk pale efflorations
From the secret earth, arise
