The Near Continuum

Michael D. Snediker

Of mercury glass attachment,
spiral buckthorn. 

Low lying displacement harboring pines by stars of
 
foster
myrtle. 

I carried a camphor temple far as 
the chirograph’s steadying would go. 

Soldiers on night-blooming declines of kind. Votary 
citrine the very notion of catafalque covered over, its 
bryony cope.

Fernfelt colony my hand being 

guided through lakes of wind lifting
gently, as on a soft shield. 

The buckthorn pines for place that wasn’t tricked, 

one dim heath against a dimmer 

indivisibly laid like sleepers in a field 
dream of briar marvel.

The fickle pattern of lovers dissolves in
shuddering white. Filigree structure 
centurion, 

cardinal catkin gold. 

What arrests colonizing gentleness: 
the petrified 

medium in its orrery sky somewhere
between the worrisome atom of an old 
Lucretian 

swan & geode genii 

divining themselves until 
we come around. 

Alone rescued 
from blinking obedience, what pearl
in this pest of brain 

would choose such green 
twig formalism, again. 

Such warm spells of bridge behavior.