black yucca of the rain
ensheaths itself
in theft’s shepherd–delta
passing through
the tomb–carapace
mercy listens
for the sniper’s voice
the war moved a
little, against my face
the poem
is not a body, though
a body holds it
in the same light
black yucca of the rain
wait with me
with the interred poem
the sniper releases
the child’s hand
& drops his garment
the tine–animal
advances
you can feel its beige
compression scar
before the jury–stones
which silent
await the second bell