At journey’s end the heavens were sharp
Dark, deep and obvious, silhouettes of light,
A spread encore, a waiting for delight clasp
Opening of buds long due through the night.
The night before, day between arrivals
Dwarfed the windmills of obsession
Before them due, flowers shrivel
Through summer and winter permutation.
Concrete metaphors of peccadilloes dead
Never irk the memory of men and women
Those nagging fancies long bulk wood
Of passion spent and spilled crown.
At fancies end a performance splendid
Rehearsed hug enchanting deep a long kiss,
And a perpetuated spread.
A moving undressing of frenzied minions.
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