Your Persian paradise


Spotty grackles swarm the dogwood,
chatty starlings nibbling
scarlet berries, quibbling
around each drooping leaf (old

ruddy father).  They traipse a happy
nonsense o’er the remnant
garden.  Sir Thomas Browne,
strum softly til I end my Rhody

nap (it won’t be long).  Your Persian
paradise (precisely drawn)
will do for Gödel, Dante –
not so simple to sketch that Abyssinian

abyss, encircling the human plow
through history.  Your soul
is touched by lost photo
whose courteous artist limns her now –

an April child glimpsed through November
shades (All Souls, Grandpa).
One unicorn grace, selah.
O woe to me, that scarred the moon (her

face still gleams from autumn grass).
A soft Franciscan Rimini
rhymes in the memory
of your basilica (on ne passe pas).

Dear evening Matilda, 1-3-2...
(Beethoven, fowled & quartered –
decussation – weathered
sprite).  All shall be well, hums Manitou.


laundry line, old lilac, light Brownian diamond

Rhody backyard I must leave ere long

1 comment:

Kevin Faulkner said...

dante's oul-journey and Godel are related to Cyrus as is Mandelbrot, i love the line, 'Sir Thomas Browne,
strum softly til I end my Rhody' quite clock-work Orangish, but surely a pastiche of Eliot's ' Sweet Thames, run softly till I end my song' , and for sure Cyrus does allude to Persia, a well-known B&Q civilization for gardening, at the beginning and end of Discourse. Browne's own poetry is rather disappointing, with perhaps the exception of the pseudo-Nostrodamus quatrains of his 'Prophecy concerning future state of several nations'. 'When america shall cease to send out its Treasure/But employ it instead in american Pleasure'. What a prophetic utterance 'American Pleasure' has turned out to be !