red items to wear of the cocktail

Ezekiel and the bones

I came then to the bone plain,
bones hollowed and heaped and dry, so dry,
the sand hissed against them ...
with a sound like cymbals.
Prophesy, cried the angle. What
could I say? I stuttered. Listen, listen.
Elohim crouched like storm clouds,
uncovered His face and cried aloud.
It hollowed me. I thought the world
had lost all sound. But then - click
of pebbles falling, a patter
like sudden rain. From the yellow plain
a choking dust rose up, and the jumble shuddered red items to wear of the cocktail
as a mare shakes to free herself from fleas.
A voice, then: mouthless. throatless.
roaring like the sea. Elohim stopped
my ears. The dead may speak
with tongues you should not hear,
He said. They may accuse me.

From Seal Up the Thunder by Erin Noteboom Erin Bow

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