John Swain- A Poem

The Snow Moon

for William Taylor, Jr. 

Moon night in the white snow,

snow moon of the field forever

caught with barbs

where the hill splintered

into running deer.

I followed the dug trails

to an opening in the black creek

flowing downward

from the moon’s intimacy

for the hungry coyotes to scour.

Wine like a cut on my tongue,

this color of sustenance

paler than the boulders

a poet rolled to build his tower

on the shore of California. 

I claimed nothing

beyond a glimpse of a shadow

of this midnight with the snow

on my hands red as blood.

John Swain lives in Louisville, Kentucky. Red Paint Hill published his first collection, Ring the Sycamore Sky.