Stabbed, brambles that already burst with blood

Snag me.

I suck my purple finger, swear

And noticing the naked trees -

Quivering, shivering, bare in the frothiness of the light,

The moon exposing: bulges, knots and graven eyes,

I long to make them decent once again,

To make a fancy cloth of golden leaves,

An autumn patchwork stapled to their trunks.

Demented owls go twit-a-twoo

Shhh! Can you hear?

One spears a mouse, look!

Bloody, writhing,

Bright,

Its sticky blood glows in the lanterns of her eyes.