Around you the dusk fragrant and dark
as ambergris reassembles continually.
My flat feet on your knees, seeds
of light rolling off the stones
out over the long lawn and away.
To make me laugh you mimic
consternation, like a madonna,
and the new-come moon covetous
of this pale Pieta blanches your black curls,
a plain-hearted thing spun of light who laughs
against all the corrupt settlement of the world.
Friday, November 6, 2009
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I read this about nine times today, Talia; it just got stuck in my head. Lovely. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI as well really really loved this poem. thank you dear :)
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