Five Points, Vol. 21, no.2
The fire burns down against the rocks
turning the ashes white
and the petals of the Christmas flower
open their points out
like a new star
which the world is making
making new stars day and night.
In the pale grass
and brown straw fallen
under the cypress and pines,
new stars being made
so common and rare
burning away in the desert air
where sometimes the wind
makes a sound like a flute
and only the wild things usually set foot.
They shine on the ice fields in the far north
and all through heaven and earth.
There are piles of dark kelp
washed up in the sand
washed in the fullness of time
and the moon’s a bright crescent
just past new
hanging above the waves
which are making new stars
in their spindrift and whitecaps
and making new stars in their depth,
new stars in the abysses and canyons
shining on life and death.