ELECTRA
Fantasy, Capri. The edge of a pillow.
Certain words--murmur, seashells.
A face beckoning thru time, lacy windows with
purple shades simultaneously drawn.
Tears of gold. Love signs,
glass of champagne.
A tree of hemlock nearby. A delightful print
tablecloth that signals the breeze. The courtier
in fancy dress. Twin bottles of vintage wine abreast
rider and horse.
Potables. A blue eggshell. The sun stirring Virginia Creeper
that moves in unison with the wind.
Electra and electricity, the current that prods the mind.
[40]
SIDEWAY LOOK
It's snowing and all I can think of
are leaves to wrap your memory,
leaves pungent as tea,
green curls alive
with the promise of fire,
shutes like fingers
to play a tap on your skin.
The snow is wet like your eyes at parting,
cold as the promise of a winter dawn
wet again as city-streets
I must tread to make a living,
the flask of wine
pressed to my lips.
On the winter landscape all
I see is the ghost white of sheets,
our sheets wrapped to keep breath warm
the log cannisters of our bed
a heady raft upon which to travel
to burn up an ocean of delight.
[41]