Inland sea

BREATHING SEA

Old Hobo glances back upstream

as the spring bluets form

an inland sea – a swarm

of peacock eyes (out of a dream-

song dome) across the autumn grass.

Retrospective.  Phoebus

in an ochre crevasse,

Magdalenian cave-compass.

Your yearning for Eurydice,

so youthful-hungry, Henry –

out of want, not plenty –

ignorant (in your blind way).

An oscillation of the sun

and moon.  The Q. of Heaven

looks out from her den,

mild lioness... dusky horizon.

Henry, by his veiled statue,

thinks on Beatrice

(pine-green eyes, sea-

grey).  His melancholy’s ocean-blue.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem!  How

I would have gathered you...

the soul’s an orphan zoo

without the smile of Manitou.

A little tree in Galilee

still rustles in the breeze

from a breathing sea.  She’s

calling you, sailor.  Be free.

4.14.16