& so concludes Fontegaia pt. 4. (p.s. today is the anniversary of the founding of Constantinople)

27

 
Grandma went down to St. Croix on your birthday,
Phoebe, to visit a nest of potters along the river.
Spry Frisbee-soothsayer keeps on revolving forever,
almost - like a venerable Pythia-barge (109 light-years

 
away, it seems).  Your Little Boy Bohu-Pa (some
China clay?) peers out again (through his mosquito-
net) toward a winking, twinkling Ocean shore -
the river-of-riverbanks, a moving firmament

 
(tesseract dome or drinking bowl).  Where
elk-sized almond eyes (through arctic space)
lock into mutual recognition - natural grace
domesticating something else.  Grain of sand (or

 
key of clay) from nowhere.  Something immeasurable
nestled in the river-rings - purled mote of fire
in parallax.  Becomes an equal sign (9 = gyre)
whose Magdalenian eyes dove into mine.  Voluble

 
pebble on ramble up Nile - light-bauble, hidden
in humdrum clam - Jonah's wail, phonautographed
by Byzantine toy elephant... some corn-fed seraph
Ruth found (a-slumber) on her way to Rachel's barn.

 
Earth just tuning up, the way an infinite keyboard
found a home in Mendelssohn.  Five-finger exercises.
We count the cost together, local guys n' gals
figuring out Saskatchewan - but look upstream, toward

 
rainy spring (where river-whales play hippopotami
arpeggios).  Look there, look there.  Cassiopeia
and her Milky King - your mother-stream's calliope -
a muted requiem.  The universe.  Sings come with me.

     
                      5.11.08 (Pentecost/Mother's Day)