Saturday, 2 July 2016

1 New Poem

On First Looking Into Pressed Leaf Preservations

Remember all verdant finery,
lush places, distiller’s passion wild,
that handkerchief tossed from
maiden days to rooted arms.

Remember wilting tilt, shimmer bend
ignored first flushes of rose
petal confusion, for the
dismissed Northern township signposts.

Remember clovers crimson,
fire down below canyon’s train
track tracing, circulatory steel
it turns to in smothered furies.

Remember ash made of dawns,
rather celestial midnight, but
marble still for engraving light,
make some proper time for epitaph.

No comments:

Post a Comment