ROYAL FLUSH
This winter light is innocent,
salted with snow. Downstream
from Franklin Bridge, steam
lifts by gawky crane, afloat
like nautical giraffe (all finished
now). Henry Hobo
seeps his moonshine so
far down... devoutly to be wished,
that well-being. Dante was agile
in the Tuscan sun, seeking
also – her flame leaking
through trumpet vine (light, fragile
grace). Men search for causes
& neglect their ends.
Ophelia’s betrayal bends
into a sea of stinging roses
where Earth replies with Mendelssohn
& Paradise was felt
before her deck was dealt
(52 weeks of sun – Apollinairean
royal flush). She seeks you too,
his glinting Beatrice.
Iris on her way
from infinite mercy (blue
rondure, flecked with gold, aswirl
from blazing central star)
brings home to where you are –
in thicket night, a glowing coal.
2.6.17
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