latticed sleep, that shuttered eye,
that moment’s lack
Of color—like a natural dye
turned neither black
Nor white, but something in between,
so that before
And after cast no spell. That stream,
that pallid moor
And withered lake, those waters calm
Where nothing stirs or gives alarm,
and no birds sing.
Jared Carter’s fifth collection of poems is A Dance in the Street from Wind Publications in Kentucky.