The Sharpener

"So often shaken—it is the voice"

"and a horn, a tangent, leads me to rest"

"to widen instead the tube of that measure"

"Breathe on me still, star, sister"

"your arms of burnt air"

Craft: Joe Bolton

"partly because of the fluorescent orange tulips around the birches"

"in the field goldenrod blackened"

"drain of night"

"Untuned, unstrung"