I Remember China's Daughters

I see a tremulous gold of stars

In the luster of your eyes and hair

Like pale flowers folded with light

 

The sweet serenade of your laughing smile

It is enough for me to die to love

And be reborn like mandolin’s gilded street

 

That ever returns to the Fountain, dear?

Where we used to meet, glittering white

Watching the water, as sharp as youth

 

I see the stained glass at the church

Still smiles the same, flames that cry

It is never too late to be loved

 

How the sun finds the scarlet hope

In my chest, burning me with wooden

And painted joys, tuneless and sharp as sin

 

Bright as dancing feet, light bouncing

Off of the snow, like rubies upon the trees

The flamelike affairs or orchard halls

 

A few souls we once called loves

Hoofs used to clatter, but ah, no more

Twang goes the sharp mandolin, as I think of you. 

Reviews

[Marie]

Sharp, somewhat bitter...beautiful images and memories...

[Prolific In Verse]

Yes upon reading Edith Sitwell whom I just bought in an old used book store near my house.