Poetry
Morte ou Immortelle
Dandelions.
How I miss you in her golden crown of hair
As she careens forward,
Through the tall-weeds,
And falls
In spirals of laughter.
Buttery cheeks.
She might as well have painted cadmium thickly
On with a hasty
finger
And left it there for this next role.
Flutter feet.
Bare, of course,
Stumpf-ta-stoompf of the insects
rattled
in the undergrowth
The dandelion shudders and dissolves
In your fingers? the petals fall away and I —
Where? I
Was one of the stalks and so were
you.
That I crave we pass
How I miss you in her golden crown of hair
As she careens forward,
Through the tall-weeds,
And falls
In spirals of laughter.
Buttery cheeks.
She might as well have painted cadmium thickly
On with a hasty
finger
And left it there for this next role.
Flutter feet.
Bare, of course,
Stumpf-ta-stoompf of the insects
rattled
in the undergrowth
Et du coup je ne sais plus si je me sens morte
ou immortelle.
ou immortelle.
The dandelion shudders and dissolves
In your fingers? the petals fall away and I —
Where? I
Was one of the stalks and so were
you.
Et ça (and that)
C’est la mortalité mobile (that is mortality in motion)
C’est la mortalité mobile (that is mortality in motion)
That I crave we pass
Dans une dance (in a dance)
Effervescent (effervescent)
Le matin passé. (the morning past.)
Effervescent (effervescent)
Le matin passé. (the morning past.)