The Larches Have Eyeballs
High on their bowers
Single eyes, like Masonic symbols
Crown the trees, like a cherry
Or a bowler hat, their
Garments below shed like
A nightgown, and their needles
A carpet, reflect their eyes
Like fallen lashes and a scowl
A down turned brow of
An earth mumble to the trees
They climb, like Jacob’s angels
Up their own ziggurat, a procession of
Asterisks a smart line of commas
They see with the power of seers
The stark punctuation of the seasons
They inhale the sulphide fumes
Of their Delphi
Their eyeballs stand naked,
In the dim twilight snow
Highlighted in eyes
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