Fever

In an open field at dusk
To footfalls, I awoke
Marching ants across my temple zone
Their feet had no intention
They followed some magnetic draw
Prisoners of their destinationFrom the slats of the factory come
(where once they did make rails)
Old death's peculiar songs
He didn't know I was listening
So he crowed out nice and long
To the spiders and the lumber and the dust of his conquests
and his hunger and his loss
I heard his feet rejoice
I heard him tap his cane
As if he had his own revue
On stage at the athenaeumI caught his words in my open mouth
I gagged and choked and spit them out
I heard him turn as he did hear
My tiny heartbeat in his ear
I was already running
Oh, I heard him comingShrapnel spinning from his wheels
The sounding arms rake for my heels
I know then roll and hit my face
And I said these magic wordsMy dove is home
Her breast is warm
My dove is homeAnd I said these magic wordsI fall down, down the anthill for daysMy dove is home
Her breast is warm
My dove is home