as if this field were full of skeletons.
How the bones would cry and the grass would flame up
Skeleton arms for tree branches;
leg bones for roots, forking the ground;
crow shadows stamped on everything;
and all the night-birds sound like babies
In another corner of the scene
a white piano is reflecting some moonlight:
the answer is music. Or air, or water. Water
Youth is all slender girl-legs and bony elbows,
and youth is also the hiss of the breaks on the bus
as it tries to stop before hitting the slender girl.
And then the terrifying moments of inaction
The breaks are a chorus of gravel, ground, bones and suck.
they join in/ you join in/ we all sing.