1 vote

I - Xvi - Mcmxxvi - Poem

I beseech amends this day......

O'er iron and marble my penitence drapes,

knelt to where underside the earth you reach:
subtle fingertips the wisp of your ghost.

A time it has been...
that risen to exoneration from waters we were,

and to heights immersed in white I have felt -
thereto seeming tufts of cottony hairs,
resembling those of the cottonwood tree...

amongst them all, you...

an afterimage as ripples in mirrors my eyes your leave reflect,
those arms with youthful cognizance I still know
that many times held my contentment...

know that I am saved,
as the birch and walnut of childhood save for me
autumn and the golden grasses:

shimmering rods in fields of iron,
to endless planes...

Peace and Love always.

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