The canebrake bronze
trembling with bittern
in the sun 
until horizon of winds
brought a thundering.
I touched my cut arms
to the river I followed
without a holding
on miles of levee 
between floods of oak. 
I stood in column air 
created by two eagles.
I prayed to nothing 
for nothing with a voice
of scream and cypress.
I claimed the mistake
that carried me
to this place of waste
which filled my mind
with devouring idols 
like approaching rain
upon the sulphur clay
carved another mask
I will try to abandon.

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