dust in the shadows

before the moors were bleeding
the flies were changing their toes
open wounds for the seeding
and the canoes bled dry under their noses
all the seedling gathered up dust
wandering the wind flown ghetto
ushering oceans to their knees
full of rabid exposure
brilliant under the two toned sun
mirrored as sun beams
dead on the floor
and the wise ones shimmered
removing toes from their shadows
thumbs from their outlet
not to be outdone
shores into shackles
short as the ocean wide
judging the Saharan shadows
ripe as the juice below
counter-balanced
coward tied to bless the unknown
factored into the muddle fixation
sure as dynamite in the sand
and twice as cautious
wandering ghettoes naked twice
once with leaves once with shadows
one thumb tied beneath the other
black as the north is south
and not ashamed as shy
and the grace as grass as sea
waterlogged under the sponge
twice as shy as cautious
naming the unnamed under fire
post as past
rapid as wine
the sine removal continuance
shoring shadows of unknown tone
sharp as the needles on back
tiring to remain but pining to go
wringing in wrap before the dust fall down
all done up in the shadows of before
when the ripe were ready and wrong undone
dust in the crimes brought in waves
all that remains in the crimes in the shadows
and the portents left behind.

denis streeter   10/12/14