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To the fence
Comes a mass—muscle.
Evening falling red
Unto purple fields,
Of black trees, from blue roads.
Symbol of your own death,
Walk together in your parts :
Veil of flies over
Bloodless whithers—
Slave of kings and broken men.
For some other’s sake,
To make a new self of
The self. In orange burning out,
A contrail, a comet.
In the blue become black,
A train glides on wheat.
How am I you, and you, me?
In the paddock of the moon,
In his glowing house,
Your owner loads his rifle.
I gave you oats from my pocket,
You give me a door in the field.
Haines Eason is the 2010 winner of the Beau Boudreaux Poetry Prize from Cream City Review. His poems have appeared in New England Review, Yale Review, and American Letters & Commentary.
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