ATTIC SCRAPBOOK
i.m. Sir Nicholas Winton, 1909-2015
The wonder of such strange & serpentine
inversions – the fugitive figure
of a mote-motif (Apollinaire
in pipesmoke, say) turned adamantine
ground-bass. Children of Nicholas
trained by tomb-cocoon
back to civilization –
little seedling-waifs to distant witness
stand for a hero’s welcome, basketed
in attic scrapbook (almost
lost). So inside-out
(a Chaplin’s chaplaincy). O helmeted
spouse of almond biosphere,
whose pergola or grape-
vine lattice lifted up
one speckled shadow, brazen spear –
sere monarch-leaf... to re-appear!
Wave-shield for life arrested –
lacquered, casketed
sybil of Sibelius, flown clear
in V-formation, still alive...
So Dante’s Florence, my
grand motherland, might be
a molting rhyme, prairie beehive
as forth from Juliet or Maggie’s den
Earth arcs one Saarinen
cat-grin – fireworks begin
to boom at dusk (Frisco, Ravenn).
7.2.15
the late Nicholas Winton, with one of his lambs
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