High Snakes
Lunar lugged tide on high
sheens a sea surface
that sheets home a skin
beauty deep.
Saint Patrick frightened hell
out of the snakes of Ireland
who slithered between God
and darkness.
Who believe him extinct
the devil takes home
for the endless supper.
Cloudless sky near crowds out
a mindless reverie:
When school unruly boys burn
a face in the sacred mountain side
I remain in awe as
the sheening beauty snakes me home.
