Refuge Field
You have installed a voice that can soothe you: agents
of the eaten flesh, every body
a cocoon of change —
Puparium. The garden
a birthing house, sarcophagidae —
And green was so dark in the night-garden, in the garden's
gourd of air —
green's epitome
of green's peace, the beautiful inhuman
leg-music, crickets'
thrum —
a pulse