In the ruffled mirror of the lake
scatter sibylline shards
of ice-light – winsome chaos
fabulating carousels a child might make.
To the attunement of a ball of clay
dissolving into Mendelssohn
spring mud – spry union-
unison of infant birds (with day).
It cannot last, cry Paul & Augustine.
Yet lasted long enough,
croons woodman Joseph’s
son – justifying all her children.
Afternoons of used-up antique men
shift with shy Psyche –
hope to melancholy,
grief to resolve (determination).
Dusk filters into codex ink.
The dapple of the harbor
shrinks to one iron
anchor, parallactic (in the drink).
Yet teeming Earth still whispers
its new whorl – the mind
rewinds, sea-myths unbind
their clams. Heroes (Coke, Roger)
ripple in the river, over the rim
of light birch canoe;
Psyche’s eyelids flicker too,
tap signals from tall Joachim.
Grace Ravlin, Gloucester (ca. 1920s)