Leeds (Aloud)

I was a collapsed barn
All you saw were the wisps of bent hay
Floating around my temples
signal flares for a pacified angel

My eyeballs turned 

patient in their sockets
that summer, sulking afternoon
While sentimental gossips poked them back ahead

Exacting straws, needled from firm dirt that lifting cracks
Shaggy roots that crumble

padded,

suffocating in the laboring sun
to possibly be drenched again and run into the river

Pointing and deliberate
The grasses wept
From another point of view,
it all looked soft

Crickets are another man's silence
The barn boards have old nails in them, so put your shoes on

This treasure is only plastic from the seventies
This emerald is only a wet stone