In the Cold House

The whole house is silent
The fiends can’t hear me yet
The cat who sleeps on the couch in the parlor stretches
Yaws once and is still for a long time
I stand still in the late afternoon
My face is turned away from the sun
A tree branch grazes in my long shadow
This time, I have left my body behind me, flying
It seems in dark thorns
Still, It is dusk
It will bring the good darkness
The spirit of a tree begins to move
I touch leaves
I close my eyes, and think of water
A bird cries in bare elder trees
The moon suddenly stands up in the darkness,
And I see that it is impossible to die
Without Venus being near by
IN THE COLD HOUSE