Terrible Ivan

Why grasp and claw and tear
for life? Why run until your
feet cannot? Why pant and
strive and wear us out?

Why not suffer, why not die?
Why not stand and die
instead? Why not instead
accept the blade, the stone,
the shot, the shell? Why not
accept and fall and die?

Why not fall and grip the
grass, fall and grip and
twist the grass, grip and
twist and pull the grass,
and gasp and retch and
breathe your last?

Why not gasp and retch
and wrench and bleed
and bleed and bleed and
breathe your last?
What terror lives in death
and dark, where too the
Word has been?

Falcon and Gyrfalcon

The fire and the knife of bronze

are passing through the fields of corn

the lightning and the sword that winnows

go sifting through the wheat

The fingers of the weaver now

are walking in the warp the

weft the hunter's hands are

shaping horn and hide

The whetstone and the spears appear

and the oil for the shields the tower

stands on spoiled ground and

Abel cries aloud