A Light That Turns

1.
In sleep-warped windows, night
gowns fade
in like the lapsus
lingua of moths
on water.

2.
Confetti of moths
in yellow odysseys
around the spring theater,
where flags sough like skirts
that brush cold thighs.

3.
In the cold of the open eye,
spark of plane skips
like a lighthouse
in fog which lifts;
flash of snakes
through flesh-colored grass.

4.
The forsythia sheds
under clouds, its yellow
confetti in a light that turns everything—
house, road, fence—to tissue
paper,
adrift.

5.
In sparse wood, blue
darts: does God, like the crescent
of frost, know how
to undress
for the naked day?