emmadavies.net > Poetry > The New Moon > Handfasting 

Handfasting

they are tangled legs and arms,
hot bricks in the night kiln

the road is an orange flood
vibrations of rain move the black river.

storms approach on foot,
exeunt to the wings without
taking bows centre stage.

the willow beneath the window shakes
ducks on wires running relays in the dark.

their tangle is a knot
hands fastening.