under his eye
in the crooked end
of a thunderous day
all these colors
marching cross the floor
in turncoat uniform
the way you meant to go
in dark straight lines
but the labyrinth picked you up
on tiny golden bird wings
dropped you down
into the well
of expectation
deliverance in perfect
pirouette form
spinning leaves and knitted landscape
into this holey shawl
of absolution
…
