The Embankment

(The fantasia of a fallen gentleman on a cold, bitter night.)

Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,

In the flash of gold heels on the hard pavement.

Now see I

That warmth’s the very stuff of poesy.

Oh, God, make small

The old star-eaten blanket of the sky,

That I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.

-T.E. Hume

I would believe only in a god who could dance. And when I saw my devil I found him serious, thorough, profound, and solemn: It was the spirit of gravity-through him all things fall.

-Momento Mori-

Lightness of life

transposed to the weight of soil.

flesh on bone stuck

Torn old sack:

    torn to collected tatters.

Bones scorched white.

skull and tooth,

rib and spine.

My wind escapes

hidden in

the hollow of another.

Momento

The soil lays heavier

than the lightness of life.