The builder of cellos in solar weather Extracts a suavity from knots, true trills That mock the swilling catbird in his royal chair. But from what seed increased the pilfered wood? 5 Farm boys and their milky maids grown old Must, as hale timbers rudely weathered, Must strain, and crack, and, in their scale, break Remoter love's fiercest chord, dwindling At length as even the grandest cock 10 Goes rolling, listlessly, on to noon. II Blue rabbis without hats are chasing still What rabbis, bending at their lamps, construe 15 To be the bright perennial, in renewing hues Emerging, out of so much ephemeral dust. Hearers of thunder in their flamenco capes Make much of its minor terrors and mimic hate; Dividing time between one disaster 20 And another catastrophe, that kills, They are like drowned rabbis beholding doom In a stoven ship of their own imagining While blazing fish peek about their bones.
From the collection "Constellations in December"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.