|
M I C H E L E L E G G O T T |
||
hello and goodbyethere is a path that climbs out of sleep with clear notes on five fingers blown across sweet grassy plains there is no holding them they move like the wind over your sleeping face which knows where it has been and why it must remember the path that climbs out of sleep and into the green heartstring morning vibrato the bell in the throat the ball in the whistle when it’s low and your breath is the slow bounce of ropes that braid and twist and hold up the floating planet as if by magic tremolo a fibrillation of the air and its concertos better even than a neighbour deciding between harpsichord and salt fish running through his fingers and over the dark garden to where we’re walking along looking for the sound of a word so deep in theft its adventures have hardly begun delirium lady in Illyria with a lily he calls Elysium the newly alighted angel’s lineal poise lirio what would you on her silver tomb lirica the white notebook up against the red wall the black words going on into the light lady I am negative wingspan in Illyria and he is Elysium a lily a lyric a white delirium I saw you, you were a minim wraith of silver light the day moon a figure on the road the blue moon resurrected sister lucy gone to heaven in her silver boat grass ghosts beginning to sing and you on the spiral road when I walk sea waves as I turn glass mallets and turn again wind chimes sleeping with the last track climbing the stairs in the dark I wait and wait and the weight of waiting is impossible cicadas shrill above the cricket boys over the daughter chorus that pearly necklace I’m looking for in all the stations on the way to Ocean City Go with Eros it’s plain as day a mob of arboreal lorikeets another kind of whistle for the chorus chiasmos comes and goes thiasos is my east my new looking my ghost along the spiral road looking up from the dark garden I see the vision of the boat sailing in the sky Fra Angelico’s room and nobody left behind no one missing out on its mother of pearl ceilings I cannot bear the pain liths of orange what does it mean? liths of orange roughy on a big white plate life and limb kith and kin lift us into heaven tonight forgetting remembering Konai’s grandiflora words a bowl of cool air anticipating the sun in its pisces pool climbing the walls and the towers waiting for the words the silver mirror spirals here now always the lovers in the fountain oblivious beginning their two fish kiss and sister lucy in her boat skimming up the hill First published in The Capillano Review 2.46 (Feb 2006). |
||
|
| ||
|
Comments | ||
