There are sanctuaries holding honey and salt

evensong lights floating black night waters,
a lagoon of stars washed in velvet shadows,
a great storm cry from white sea horses-
              these moments cost beyond all prices.

a deep smoke winding one hump of a mountain
and the smoke becomes a smoke known to your own
              twisted individual garments
the winding of it gets into your walk, your hands,
              your face and eyes.