The Ecphorizer

Bone Cave
Maureen Fogard

Issue #20 (April 1983)

Here in the bone cave
Where nothing stirs but blind crickets
Moving, sifting darkness
Knowing nothing but random scurry.

Here deep in the bone cave
Tenderly curved into green memory
Touching cool opaque walls
Remembering water dreaming.

Here within the fragile chanter
Lives chaos
Deep as the secret stream
That seeks in the darkness.

Here moves the burning coils
Of frantic memory and thrust
Seeking like the blind cave-cricket
Its meaning
Direction
And destiny. 

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Maureen Fogard




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