Yet seem'd it winter still, and you away,
As with your shadow I with these did play.
The universe in teeming unison intones the
silken, skilled refigurement of slandered
scandal-- harps begotten victory above my bones'
corral o.k. she's deep vermilion-fevered
now... prescriptions lays sweet smells & figures
of delight [& trumpets also] let the sea
make noise floods clap their hands O marvelous
April! your groinèd alphabet engraves my clay:
Hibernian sheep checkmate the rugged ground,
high cupolas pinprick dogwoods, lagoons,
your constellate goodwill--flowering almond--
scents the New Year's air: runes, vessels, premonitions. . .
& like a cardinal in a cured ribcage
my carol springs from winter's branches--age to age.
Henry Gould | Island Road 84
Contents | Mudlark No. 6