Bright red bodies spread away
As she leans in for a peek,
Crawl, prick, cover the brick
Of the hall of ivy,
Spindly legs weave a
Blanket of a thousand limbs
Through slits of light a
A flash of silk,
Blue and gold bells
Ring a sharp warning to
Her witnessing eyes
Through the leaves
They conceal the secrets of
Cold stone against the knees
Of the little one,
Her velvet green dress for a special day wasted,
Torn by mortar that
Binds
Close those crusted eyes,
Recite the silent chant and run
From what’s been seen,
Let it lie,
Long and knowing, whispering a
Lull of hush
Sage Cruser lives and works in Seattle.