June 29th, 1886 (2021)

 

On the warmest night of summer’s June

In the graveyard by the sailor’s dock

Under the pale struck light of the blue moon

over a sepulchre stands a nighthawk.

 

With an instrument cocooned in its hands,

And its face dug into the dirt,

the stone tooth embarks the land,

tears out the bustle of a skirt.

 

Feathers from Birds of Paradise

Scattered on a veil laced with string.

Between the grains, a finger of ice 

Bound only by a wedding ring.

 

And the shadow kneels to the bride

And plants a kiss to lay his life.