A blackberry cane I brushed aside
snagged my sleeve; I reeled,
conceived of jagged claws and fanged jaws
honed in on me.
Then passing through a door
I was stopped short
by an unseen latched screen.
A ponderous force moves in everything;
twice today I felt it move in me
and the world unspooled itself—
now I see
that the trees are tired of carrying the sky,
even the hillside heaves a kind of consent
and the evening star was up all night;
she’s pale,
faded, like a tear in a long blue skirt.