i get older, older than this mock summer who's young
always, ever the lamb that gambols, galumphs, white
and new & shining, for which is everlasting.
my bones are cold at dawn and crack like a ship
in a squall through chilling salt, though i am younger
than my father, whose hands are stronger. light,
like blood from a lemon, threads my eyes in oversleep
that greet the sun through injured gaps. light, my enemy.
o make me new, false summer, spurious spring,
but spare me flowers and the fawning of poets; bring
no birds with their calliopes of clamor, no doves,
no sparrows, no swallows; bring no bloodrush, no heart's
triphammering, no love's crush; only the reminder
of peace engendered by your generous fire that made
past mays more kind, when love brought belly-flutters
& handsweat, not this callous and creeping killing.
always, ever the lamb that gambols, galumphs, white
and new & shining, for which is everlasting.
my bones are cold at dawn and crack like a ship
in a squall through chilling salt, though i am younger
than my father, whose hands are stronger. light,
like blood from a lemon, threads my eyes in oversleep
that greet the sun through injured gaps. light, my enemy.
o make me new, false summer, spurious spring,
but spare me flowers and the fawning of poets; bring
no birds with their calliopes of clamor, no doves,
no sparrows, no swallows; bring no bloodrush, no heart's
triphammering, no love's crush; only the reminder
of peace engendered by your generous fire that made
past mays more kind, when love brought belly-flutters
& handsweat, not this callous and creeping killing.
