The Raven

it is you,
the bloodline of Aquila
denying my rainbows,
my fire

and I
grow wings
of impatience,
morph
to the courting plumes
of a white dove,
soon to steal
your radiance,
soon to steal
this night

I shall
dangle moons
in opalescent choirs
of a seeping lullaby
that hide
in a forbidden
arc

and a universe
will sing my triumph
sotto voce
as I taste the molten heart
of a virgin,
scatter embers
of my burning tongue
to vestal founts

with utopia
I shall flee
til stone is flint
and feathers stained
til fire and water
mine again

and for this I will pay
in purity,
never a white dove
this raven again

January 2007

Blasonado por le Noche

the princess of
two Sicilies awaits
me in my sleep

astir in the silken mantles
of a portico, among the chivalrist
stars of an Andelusian
night

Mercedes,
emblazoned
by the fruited spice
of heady wines and dusken lips,
of faceless resguados
thrumming with the
passion of Madrid

I will dream
of you tonight

until the attars
of your sinless fruit
perish
with the
night

May 2007

Fall of Fall
 
an exodus
in the last breath
of a dying song

frosted whispers
playing on the gray twigs
of an abandoning
robin

and I dream
of one last fling,
a wily chinook
to play upon
dead blossoms,
to warm brittle
limbs

not for me to lust

for it is
the fall of fall
a season
passed

time to
shed

set my
robins
free

November 2006

never been to Paris

never been to Paris
do your leaves
fall as I?

in the kiss
of bittersweet
the envoi de l'été

never been to Paris
do the years
weep as mine?

as tender tears
of autumn
dancing at my feet

October 2006