Barred back from the glare
gone gripped along
the rail run-down
running from or toward
no matter no
mind never
hell for leather
scraped across
night’s increment
torn from the sedge the salvage
shorn at the edge
forlorn fore-
warned they said
hefting waxed
breached waning
whine needling half-
heard then hearing
help winded in
the wind gone
the words’ grip
ground to a halt