WAVY CUPOLA
The child in her acorn coracle
moseys up the Nile
flashing her light smile
every which way (infant oracle);
when you least expect, she’ll plant
her seedling joy – OK,
everything’s hunky-dory
now – with a fiddlehead stunt,
twirling up in a spiral over
empty space (green
island in the brain,
green almond, 4-leaf clover).
The red-gray desert stone
harbored an agate
lamp – uplifted late
into the night (sweet Psyche-zone);
under a wavy cupola of bark
a tepee-tripod braced
the buoyant mandorla...
O Hobo-Rube, not earthquake
nor volcano can displace
your cheery pine-lantern
whose handy facets perne
around one holm oak – chase
the quick naiad now, into the wood!
She cartwheels up ahead –
one skipping emerald,
one glancing Ariadne-tread.
11.3.16
