All posts tagged: The Fenland Reed

“Villanelle to Cold Psalms” and other poems by Jane Burn

Villanelle to Cold Psalms Here among the gloam owls, their cry of cold psalms I am treetops, bearing a crown of night. The dark is born. I imagine the death I would make in the strange of your arms, shiver beneath the void of stars, sing the charm of moths. Wish them against my neck. My skin mourns, here among the gloam owls, their cry of cold psalms. Dusk is a lie. This is crushed light, visions of curious calm. I am prey, twitching in uneasy sleep, a distant spire’s thorn. I imagine the death I would make in the strange of your arms. Here are the tendons of my neck. Here is the throb of harm. I am lost as one drop of rain is lost to a storm, here among the gloam owls, their cry of cold psalms. I bear a ghost of gloom in the curl of my palm. I am the moonlight’s gash where the sky is torn. I imagine the death I would make in the strange of your arms, …