Swift archeress<\/p>\n
of exegesis,<\/p>\n
Ever piercing to the heart<\/p>\n
of dull infinity–<\/p>\n
Your sweet rose air.<\/p>\n
Your deft facile.<\/p>\n
Your gallant stance<\/p>\n
against the Autumn sun:<\/p>\n
You hear the sound<\/p>\n
of silent lips.<\/p>\n
You hear the words<\/p>\n
of crying fingers.<\/p>\n
The children bleed<\/p>\n
for the touch of your smile,<\/p>\n
And you break at the sight.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Dear lady of the open door,<\/p>\n
The dotted-i<\/p>\n
and mixed metaphor,<\/p>\n
Don’t fret the fallacies<\/p>\n
of the feckless few.<\/p>\n
What you see in the world<\/p>\n
as good and pure,<\/p>\n
Glows in a golden veil<\/p>\n
all around you.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Fall 1977<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Swift archeress of exegesis, Ever piercing to the heart of dull infinity– Your sweet rose air. Your deft facile. Your gallant stance against the Autumn sun: You hear the sound of silent lips. You hear the words of crying fingers. … Continue reading