april 3

   Few delinquencies delight

   the mind as signoritas bosoms

   undo the unraveling

   of the hand.

   Unpredictable as a

   menstral sea, effigy

   for the briar?

   As the dying bee holds

   closer to the plume.

 

 

   Not even monarchs, in

   their ibidem of shame,

   colliseums full, choose

   plunder from the hermits

   call,

   tend colic as a cold.

 

 

   But she, a passing breach

   of portraiture and cloth,

   refusing valiancy or the

   flutes of solid regiments;

   Redact the ruse of ardor,

   canon

   of her hair.

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

'april 3'
hde rushin
This was a intriguing one to ponder. I wondered at the realities spoken of feminine truths. You gave words of lilting truth to the reality of a lady's seasons within life. We have a tension of season of our own within life season too. Our own bodies can be rather tenacious and challenging at times. Does that make any sense?
Blessings,
Kathy

[h d e rushin]

I was trying, like Plath, to sound like Auden, the antecedent. thank you dearest for finding me.....dana

[Emily B]

a hint of dickinson maybe

brilliantly drawn

[paul]

dense with power.