Le Pont Mirabeau


Autumn already in the air.  The lace
net lifts slightly in the window
breeze.  Down the road
a train thunders steadily across

the iron bridge.  Eads, in St. Louis
same river in St. Paul
ebullient waterfall
descends into incessant sluice-

ways.  At Fond du Lac, Guillaume
will wave his pipe   the smoke
floats in blue planes   OK.
Autumnal, your pellucid tomb.

Under a beautiful water-mirror
flows the safety net.
My waif on the parapet,
my Juliet... little evergreen spear

crowning a rangy monarch span –
my songe, my sign, my Seine.
Cloverleaf Corn Maiden
twirls her blue-green mist of pine

on heron-foot again   Sophia
skips through the basilica
like Liberté-Columbia
her grey eyes scan geomatria

here twin circles merge, twin shores
align omega points
&   Maggie Galilee anoints
her Galileo with the milk of stars


Today is the birthday of poet Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918)

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