5/04/2007
Michael
Of a far barn, just where the road curves sharply
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Toward the still dab of white that oscillates
I. Arctic Scenery
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
High on this surface, guarding the edge of Pčre
This gap in time, this season not their own,
I might have happily lived some other childhood.
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
Glimmering of light:
Palladio who beckons from the other shore,
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
That squareOh, 56 x 56
The paths of childhood.
Not so much of place as of renewed hope,
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
Over the chilly dale.
Out of the picture of life, as it were, out
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
The earth beneath his feet, in its dark cape,
Toward the still dab of white that oscillates
I. Arctic Scenery
Green lilac buds appear that won't survive
High on this surface, guarding the edge of Pčre
This gap in time, this season not their own,
I might have happily lived some other childhood.
As distant memories, through the fog-dimmed light,
Glimmering of light:
Palladio who beckons from the other shore,
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
That squareOh, 56 x 56
The paths of childhood.
Not so much of place as of renewed hope,
Silent patch of ultimate paint. You are
Over the chilly dale.
Out of the picture of life, as it were, out
visitors' dugout. The osprey whose nest is atop
# posted by wmc @ 5/04/2007 01:22:00 PM 
