I've been (ant-like) labeling the 4 years and 2600 posts of HG Poetics; soon, hopefully, there will be an actual Index of HG Obsessions & Hobby-Horses. But now it's time to go back to Fontegaia, chapt. 2...

10

 
Spring wheels around once more.  Air
grows temperate.  Providence in flower
swells and sighs, exhales its myrrh
(lilac, viburnum, mountain laurel).

 
Slow contrail traces a white thread
across evening sky.  Paints one
straight line (evanescent
fresco).  Distant chord

 
of freight-train horn.  Plangent
sundown.  Next door, kids toss
horseshoes (last trace of race-
horse).  Clang (iron fundament).

 
Amazon remains the same (zone
of absent plenitude).  Bugs drone
in unison (to Judgement Day).  Bone
rots (waits); iron = rust; only word

 
is adamant (alpha to omega, end
to end).  And water shapes it
(preternatural stream) like tropic
parakeet - like warbling Reverend

 
in Nev-Neverland (a rainbow
collar over morning gray).
Light filters the prism, day
trembles (hand in sky)... so

 
evening to morning wheels toward
Everytown.  Providence (primordial
prototype) is in the droning bell
now - is everlasting word.

photo by Richard Benjamin