Word for/ Word

Derek Pollard

Joshua's Bright Lily

A single peacock feather
Ablaze in the tree’s winter

Each shivering angel
The glint of our desire

The new year come sudden
In Joshua’s bright lily, verily
At the end

Of the last dead

This sky is mine, this dome
Is mine, this heart is mine
Even though it is yours and
Is alone always

The sun brought to
The horizon’s builded slant

Two rams tupping at
The border of heaven
Gold so loud there is no
Other, buds fluorescing
In the contrails’ spill

These are names
We pass one to another
First the shiver, then
The glint