New Year's Day in the Village by Timothy Phipps-Barton.

Hoisted plank
Ratiated;
I am with bone &
wept - bitterly
so bitterly

I saw three
demons; dog-heads;
dead-headed dreams
blood coughed
choughs hacking
on the gate

over there -
an umbrella hangs
and gathers
flaked and
feathered; like
a snake coiled

like an owl
sat by byres
howling in
choking winds
hail lashed in
obsolete winter

Christ was there
reborn in tatters
eyes clawed
blindness
new buds, ice-born

night falls;
she picks stars
from around the moon;
slips and stumbles,
spills
it all goes
sparkling
away