‘tho she’s rye n’
in a sundress
& her shawl is
knotted moonlight
in the shedding
of the cords
she wearies of,
when a sample
shall or as
a wick attend
the mending of
a silence bent
more the hearth,
the wind runs
through a slant
light fallen
sudden to
the flintlock
on the floor,
she wouldn’t ‘tho
ayaladn 
knotted moonlight
and a shawl
great word: shawl.
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Yes, Timmy, quietly itself
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I especially like these lines:
the wind runs
through a slant
light fallen
sudden to
the flintlock
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She thought you would, Jeremy
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