poem || Jeff Harrison

Steps

the revolver
shot is
being sought --
the revolver, as
the woods,
was its own son and brother, &
as
the sun,
was
all feathery &
ripe
for twin punishment, &
the twin's
companions
cower at
my upside-
down sleep
solemn
as
a gazelle's
hindquarters

O
that A
ng
lo-Saxon clamber!
awakening endings,
sense's leaps
breathed
there's
languor
underneath...

languor &
always
that VAST
WORD:

"steps"

that VAST
WORD too
vast for my
yawps, but
my
breaths
swallowed
all
silence

breath #1

"the shot is returning, down
the road --
gazelles count
the shot's steps"

breath #2

"the shot's
false torch is ice"

breath #3

"the
bleating is
granite, while
the lamb is dust"

breath  #4

"when the lamb
is
dust, the
lion is ice"