the life and death of birth

And death
Was grail and fallow
With soft shoe corn row
Pleiadean skiff
Coruscating riffs
Plucking tulips from carved gardens
In covered skies days wanderings
Imploring the pebbles their strange sound
Lifting up into
When it is all so out and down
And hands sans hands
Believe what they will
That the last be the first
Incendiary coil