when one curl for each
ear of yours unmooring
grays slowly
out of brown
as if for years a decision
growing of who
leans forward more
and longer and
survives it as wisdom
I and the armies concur
as windmills and punishment
wheels at the feet
of Jerusalem go gray
in distance and a lecturer
would open the word grisaille the gray
simulacrum here and earthy
brown on the outside of the altar
but you can’t see that inside
the Prado and instead in a green
hilltop grove two horses
saddled and ridden and totally
still I argue just before the ambush