Bereft on the sand
he pleads for the tide to return,
soothe his wounds and take him away.
He calls to the moon
but the sea steals his words.
Bared to the wind, face scored by storms
his hair lifts and strays like the listless Sargas…
Robin, as you sing your red breast swells
between the frosty branches in this wintry glow.
You cock your head and listen to the bells
They told me horses play with balls
kick them, chase them
so I gave my horse a white one the size of her thighs
rolled it over the rye towards her
she raised her head for a moment’s surprise
then turned away
buried her nose in the t…