The grid of ribbed light sliding under the water
as the full tide slides into the little stream-cut creeks.
The blue rib of the storm-broken boat.

~

The high arching of ribs over the slack belly
of the dun cow lain on the rushy grass
in the washed morning light, the storm spent.

~

The ribbed arc of sprung bone
of the fish on the river path,
the belly eaten away, the ribs rising to shield it.

~

How the ribs rise everywhere
over the hot, soft belly;
how I, seeing everywhere,
high life collapsing into death,

walk here by the black-plumed reed
ribbed with the purple of loosestrife,
cry for the hot belly
gone from the bleaching bone.