Who knows what trances, what pale ash, what tin

Who knows what trances, what pale ash, what tin
by Gideon Burton


Who knows what trances, what pale ash, what tin
Remittances escape in vapored questions,
A marbled weakening along the thin
Allowance embered in the evening, lessened
By azure remnants, scraps of afternoon
Abandoning their grasping tones, and sheared
By capillaries branching hot and soon
Among the aspen summers.  Can the clear
Desire of animals or patient rock
Embalm the ebony again?  Can God
Bring texture to the lands he mocks?
The cubes of oxygen, the evens odd
Along the furrowed waves?  Who knows the deep
Enameling, the place where iron weeps?


Feel free to copy, imitate, remix, or redistribute this poem as long as you give proper acknowledgment of authorship. Photo: flickr - azglenn