of a body. Carpenter's nails pierce quickly, their long thin shafts plunge
deep in the grain, as robins twitter from flickering trees and wind drifts
over the churchyard.
a stonecutter pounds, footsteps strike the rainy street as rough words
scribble a name.
Wives of carpenters
linger at home; wives of stonecutters roll in their sleep. Hollow spaces
must be filled and mahogany dreams of a body.
drift through the churchyard gates as nails and chisels slumber.
A clock ticks,
a white shroud flutters.
A rustle sounds
in the chamber.
rise as mahogany dreams and a rustling body advances. Footsteps drift as
the dark wood waits, the workers grasp their tools....
down the slope of evening. Dawn seeps over the hills.
robins twitter. Sunlight marbles the churchyard. At home, wives glance
at empty beds, eyes and mouths despairing.
to a body. A body clings to a shroud.
sprawls near an opened box, a stonecutter bleeds on his stone.
stops in the chamber.