The Crippled Gate

Oh!
This crippled gate;

Dreams of it.

Quick and silenced words
not giving ways through;

And the still-stood night,
same;

silver reach
of prairie-school
stars in branches
bought with moon,

leaves governed down

to curvature
too-soon seen,

seldom known.

And the dark between the stars
shakes like men
chased down empty streets,
and spreads like charcoal
over spark.

From Hecla-Grindstone
to Little Falls,
the hinges are seized,
the gate crippled,
thick

with riddles,
unanswered.