Yet seem'd it winter still, and you away,
        As with your shadow I with these did play.

The universe     in teeming unison     intones the
silken, skilled     refigurement     of slandered
scandal--     harps begotten victory     above my bones'
corral     o.k.     she's deep vermilion-fevered

now...     prescriptions     lays     sweet smells & figures
of delight     [& trumpets also]     let the sea
make noise     floods clap their hands     O     marvelous
April!     your groinèd alphabet     engraves my clay:

Hibernian sheep checkmate     the rugged ground,
high cupolas     pinprick     dogwoods, lagoons,
your     constellate goodwill--flowering almond--
scents the New Year's air:     runes, vessels, premonitions. . .

& like a cardinal     in a cured ribcage
my carol     springs from winter's branches--age to age.

Henry Gould | Island Road 84
Contents | Mudlark No. 6