WORKS OF THE MINOR GODS

Works of the Minor Gods

minor gods
Night has undergone
its slow digestion.
Sunrise, cream curdled in tea.

Coiled in the sweaty sheets,
we are protected from
the worst things.

There is a howl from the cat—
like a crone locked in the cellar,
dying among the root vegetables.

To howl at dusk is poetic.
To howl at dawn is doubt.

Source: Preparing the Way, Leaf Press, 2013