Dread

I never saw the face of
That black dread,
nameless,
dervishing the leaves,
colliding
blind-eyed
along the fencelines
and orange light
of barge-cabin
on the river.

It breathed
and walked the River Road,
and the breath of it
came along with me
to canyons
rusted shut as
autumn trees
against the moon,
the dark
soaking through the stars
above.