facet of the grey sea


Now vales of Maia give away
to peaks of June, plains
emerald after rains;
gold Ghana-threads of yesterday

(encircling Hermione,
her Perdita) are knotted
in one polyglot,
shade-silvered whisper-crown.

The dream-song of that melancholy
painter in the corner
(Henry Coroner,
or Richard Parking-Lot) might be

a facet of the grey sea’s matière
portion of the human
globe (octagonalmond,
arched like Nut over the pearl-

sphere of the earth).  Hearth-sign
of futurity, through sleep
to an oasis – leaping
Minnehaha (Hobo river-mind).

Someone smiling in an acorn cap
shadows his Georgia garden.
Some apple-orchard man,
repairing limbs... his milky map

renews the face of day.  All things
woof dawn, old Prospero –
it happened long ago.
Her cartwheel (spun of gold bee-stings).


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