ACORN-RIM
This is that ancient harvest night.
Rhode Island harvesting
the sea. A Newport wedding
(Jacqueline & Jack) at rocky height
(of Sachuest). & as the whale
harvesting the sea as well
is no less an ocean swell,
& Jonah is his pearl – still hale
& whole, alive from deeps of hell –
so Henry might rise again
from his own carapace of sin
(that shimmery-mirror Minotaur-spell).
Hobo-Falstaff lurks beneath a branch
of raven-wood (Cautantowwit,
Caws-too-much-wit). Stone-set
into the Seeker’s providential avalanche –
one violet for the junk-jewelry state.
The salt air clears his head.
One Spirit wakens all the dead,
he chants – one Dream outshining potentate
& pyramid. He nurses Henry back to health
like Whitman with his milky muse;
Abe & martyr Martin fuse
into the circle of their commonwealth –
a coracle or ark of Liberty
circumferencing azure shores,
whose acorn-rim Henry restores
to dappled shade (bright almond eye).
11.1.19
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