Sarah St Vincent Welch #286 shun night

shun night, my mother

day has caught a dark dreamer

dawn and bird call cries before the rise

a lost chick a wing in a trap

blood on white feathers

the words writhing on a screen

blaring noon the notebook measures

the astrolabe curls back

tall shadows of twilight

all this day

a dream rises and throws its déjà vu

over the sun