The changing of this guard
Comes to part and shake-
As wings of owls
Umbrella-opened
Search the air and break-
With shrill and fluttered shrieks-
These bells to mark the hours
Like white singing flowers of the night.
Again, the guard-
A young woman bare,
Armed with story's telling tongue
And all its secret prayer-
Shifts to lift her body there
Back into the evening's dark.
My pass is the word and
I will be let through
To explore the new world
With my blue-colored throat and
My luminous frayed coat.
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manage the damage with language
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