Fr162B


Some Rainbow – coming from the Fair!
Some Vision of the World Cashmere –
I confidently see!
Or else a Peacock′s purple Train
Feather by feather – on the plain
Fritters itself away!

 

The dreamy Butterflies bestir!
Lethargic pools resume the whirr
Of last year′s sundered tune!
From some old Fortress on the sun
Baronial Bees – march – one by one –
In murmuring platoon!

 

The Robins stand as thick today
As flakes of snow stood yesterday –
On fence – and Roof – and Twig!
The Orchis binds her feather on
For her old lover – Don the Sun!
Revisiting the Bog!

 

¦

Without Commander! Countless! Still!
The Regiments of Wood and Hill
In bright detachment stand!
Behold, Whose multitudes are these?
The children of whose turbaned seas –
Or what Circassian Land?

By a flower – By a letter

By a nimble love –

If I weld the Rivet faster –

Final fast – above –

 

Never mind my breathless Anvil!

Never mind Repose!

Never mind the sooty faces

Tugging at the Forge!