An Authority on These Things
Be petty in
your enjoyments–
no breath too trivial,
to be now’s all–
Ask your death,
perched so unlike
Poe’s raven–always,
in your little-bit-more–
not on a dark mantel
but as a dark mantle,
collaring the shine
in your forehead,
(though you keep yourself careless
of its close fold)–
ask it–that, that contains
the shine in you, where
your light
should be cast–
If you take the trouble,
turn to your death,
you will not long wait
a reply–
********************
Very much a draft poem posted very belatedly for Margaret Bednar’s post on vases on With Real Toads. The photo was taken by Margaret Bednar at the Brooklyn Museum and all rights belong to Margaret.
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