High Modern
You have known no expanse like this.
One window frame
Harmonics from some unseen trumpeter
Across time pushing us past what was grave
While a twitterpated sparrow barrels out
With all tools, desire channels through
Hope the hammer hammers home
And the nail nails down
Firmament for a baby nursery.
You may think grandly of steel girders, bridges.
Don’t.
The best tool for breaking frames: one frenzied hand
With the certainty of leave-taking.