Monday, December 16, 2013

THE HOMUNCULUS SCORNED

Is it because you loved
the broken horse  .  the flying
horse that carried

          (far from you, baby)

your turgid eye
your reckless waist

Wondrously you recalled
the sapience on his shoulder
and his great beard growing

as the moon survived
the winged eclipse

.

A figure in the sand
                          at a distance

difficult to accept

As a child you regained
your sight and saw

everything.