1509

KINDS OF ADVENTURE

In the illegible north
The chrome stands out for faith,
A letter squeezed out of the press
And blurred.

It rains, and alternately
Is saintly. Blue and blear and chilly
And you could miss it,
Scanning the ground by machine.
Airplanes pass miles above
As swords scrape. "Eleanor,
Let's drink before you hear
What I promised I'd say."

As you pass the dark path
The furred creatures cling
To your arms and legs,
Not biting, and with no odor.