eyes of March

CHASTE EYE

I took a little walk today

slipping over the ice.

The earth veiled in sadness

by violence & bigotry –

Christchurch & the world in mourning.

A bird-of-paradise

merging with Maui skies

ricochets low planetary droning.

The Ides of March.  Caesar must die

to instaurate the Empire,

bleeding for the crowd on fire.

Republican conspirators have gone awry.

The throne requires a figurehead.

The bronze serpent is nailed

on Golgotha – is hailed

Messiah, INRI.  The king is dead.

This frozen hollow by the brown river

is full of streaming sound.

Little rivulets, underground

where Berryman left town forever.

An old man’s presentiment of spring

is like a lost heartbeat...

& somewhere nearby, a sweet

selfless affection tunes her string.

We must delve deeper into this

my friend, my limping muse.

Natasha’s temple (Voronezh)

sings with a chaste eye (goldfinch kiss).

3.15.19