Dark Wood, Dark Water

This wood burns a dark

Incense. Pale moss drips

In elbow-scarves, beards

From the archaic

Bones of the great trees.

Blue mists move over

A lake thick with fish.

Snails scroll the border

Of the glazed water

With coils of ram's-horn.

Out in the open

Down there the late year

Hammers her rare and

Various metals.

Old pewter roots twist

Up from the jet-backed

Mirror of water

And while the air's clear

Hourglass sifts a

Drift of goldpieces

Bright waterlights are

Sliding their quoits one

After the other

Down boles of the fir.