The ultrasound gleans
rib-light and coral fingers;
your heart a quick fish.
Dewfall, a morning
of webs quivering clotheslines:
late summer longhand.
Swifts shape a fly-by,
their high, riotous piercings,
and one year’s shot past.
From Chris Jones’s new full-length collection Skin (out now from Longbarrow Press). Visit the Skin microsite for more details about the book. Listen to Chris Jones read the last poem in this haiku sequence:
Longbarrow Press 