Tags
Cypriote fountain, moth, Mrs. Fubbs, poem, Poetry, Robin Goodfellow, scythe, shadow
fire-weed, drake-root,
belle-chose, a geography
without names
oyster clouds over
an altar of Venus, jasper
moss still warm after sunset
Netherlands chick
weed, split petals in
the daring-down hollow
a witch and a crow and
placket-lace in the high
mountains
things forgotten phoenix
nest wrong answer moonlit
tongue
all the Latin that I
know contrapunctum and
cinaede and cunnilinctus
through tall upland
grass Aphrodisiacal
sport among the rushes
high in the east lady’s
low postiche clouds
over with lightning
birds hidden on the mount
pleasant dreams among
the boughs
butterflies petticoats
lane flecks moving
up and down
early venerable monosyllable
heralding first rain
then flood
storybook Mrs. Fubbs’
parlor a broken
china cup
kitchen fire
thatched
cottage smoke
burbling
Cypriote fountain
someone is happy
][][
nuthatch atop
a maypole first
flower
thistledown Master
Robin Goodfellow
in the thicket
a moth, a scythe,
a shadow not
moving
washed air, Eve’s
dropper, song
in the gutter
flying through the dark
woods Cyprian scepter
in ghostly hands
long August night
Don Cypriano cat
screams grow louder
red woods and rule
of three slowly
emerging
morning, noon,
evening silent flute
breeze in the field
mist
in the valley arbor
vitae twilight
impudent
mountain rising
empty sky