L'Adoration dei Magi

Render me jewels with a green sheen.
We're honoured by a length of light
and martial grace of coordination
impacting town upon town;
and who is sick of reading on the ride?
Depend upon a loose leaf
tree art languishing in stellar clime,
sand carpets trace out a function:
you owe me, that's fine,
or dump the land I mine;
lad drops flakes on an open page
child upturns the rosy beaker
kisses as the cash floods back.
Donkey scrapes the literati's arm
weightless polars ice the earth
in your tight fist, in your wish list
a sibilance my foot won't tread
up rival tower, up river bed
a frank and thorough fantasy,
a sober place to lie.

Sarah Law | Mudlark No. 14
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