heartily, these purple song words twist
crease like gifts on gusts of dust playfully exuberant
not a greater greeting to be achieved than a cheering of space
and light two times repeated
my dear, has the dandied lion ever roared with as much delight
as you?
in your spring frock telling tales of Tortolita foothills
and burnt-red sunset rocks?
these women here, their idle talk verily swept
to the saddle’s feathery edge, all say,
sacrebleu! ces jupes sont impensables!
and how could they not? when every one of these roads
paved so straight and long
have all been carved from the same pale rainbow
keith anthony francese
4.2.2015
