A Mood of Quiet Beauty
from April Galleons 1987
The evening light was like honey in the trees When you left me and walked to the end of the street Where the sunset abruptly ended. The wedding-cake drawbridge lowered itself To the fragile forget-me-not flower. You climbed aboard. Burnt horizons suddenly paved with golden stones, Dreams I had, including suicide, Puff out the hot-air balloon now. It is bursting, it is about to burst With something invisible Just during the days. We hear, and sometimes learn, Pressing so close And fetch the blood down, and things like that. Museums then became generous, they live in our breath.