A fork of hazel over the loam-bright field
invokes the cloistered virgin’s ode:
nails cleave bone and wood to hang their frail prize,
whose price is the unwinding of their profit.
Carrion-eager, furled in flame, the lizard
broods in rampant silk, to be awakened by
the sudden fall of cold light, the translated annunciation
beamed out of the starry depths.