Iris was a messenger

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

implicate my speech

IRMA’S FLING

Sly Raven implicates my speech

with folded shade.  A bright

dove spangles dew-light

drifting the stream.  On the beach

by Mississippi, one yellow-black ensign

of cottonwood, one limestone

arrowhead.  An unknown

bird hums wings into a grey spine-

feather matrix – hovers droning

like yellow gyroscope

(totem for sun).  Hope

is the thing... the Word spins honing

like a drill toward a red diamond,

flaking hieroglyphs

& copper cypress skiffs

for one crossroad encounter (bond

of your voice, speaking soft to me,

from vise of mine).  Zone

of Mendelssohn tombstone –

of flint, cracked open for humanity –

to pour through like sprung torrent

& never cease flowing,

as when a raven crowing

from an empty cave (craven, abhorrent)

signals a seed flung by a planet’s wing –

smiles through the sea-gate

like Peacock Angel – fate

spannered by a checkmate (Irma’s Fling).

8.2.16