The
Sun was a Trumpet Then
Mornings
were treaties like mysteries--
the sea, a hand on the library!
Cold, restless, I touched you with peaches;
then we left our footprints in smoke.
Wet night, rubbery raincoats of ice!
We were rivers, opinions,
silver ink, paint on the nickels,
your eyes grew alarm clocks.
We retreated in fires like candles.
Our toes were as tired as rock.
Rum was the rain like a symphony.
The heels of our shoes were chalk
Nursery rimes, children and history,
the bed smiles gently, frivolous cock!
Lullabies can be sinister.
I loved you. White boots in the mud
Beds, pencils,and mystery!
Now, a dog's chain rattles the city. |
|
|