Bona domna, domna valens, overflown with liquid silver, overseen, her silent soul’s bruised contraction. The…

The forest’s manmade prow husbands the windcombed field. Surged impatience of barley and grass, breath…

Restored to peace these gathered sleeping riders, whose fingers of cypress turn slowly the waters.…

Burl of a bone-drill, smoke’s thin streams round fingers not yet scarred for life. Birds…

Issue through no-man’s land. Crawl over stones, stream down new-dug channels in the moss. Pause,…