That Wrath (poem)
That Wrath
He could not be accused of smiling still
Did (as in old speech) the sun hold prophecy
She held these signs
In her cloudless cabochon
On frosty ground no evil thing takes root
But here seed-heads of autumn grass
Boil, and the salt-estuary boils
Any bitterns with their bills up
Find camouflage uncovered by the dead
Reeds all of a grey color
Part of the trouble
Was threading out this road like a mountaineer
Under a sky that peers on shelterers
With orange rimmed eyes
Once or twice they drew near enough to speak
But they were strangers throwing out remarks
Do you feel now
That wrath will furnish all you wish to see
And more
Sanctuary at the shore or on the plain
Else at the center of the drain
That Wrath
Find “That Wrath” and others in Mystery Plays
The Cook (part one)
(2016, Stephanie Foster)