THE MAY WIND

Overturned ships along the Cape
concealed by the sands darkness
revealed expressionism
draped on my bare canvas
under this white painted gazebo
as geometric lines shapes us
by learning how art witnesses
to events one year ago
and returns to haunt us
in a fainted marble stone tableau,
my prolific nightmare like Poe's
rotates its own part of an axis
continues to sustain my ego
recovering my maps graphic universe
of those Russians not saved st sea
when those signaled pirates
on the waves of darkness
say on the wireless
"no or nyet" yet mean"da or yes,"
like clever critics who part our words
without using a writing brush
or a jazz soloist on the roof
riffs on a soprano saxophone
tracing imaginary notes
attempting the find the truth,
or a gardener by this orchard
transplanting this green fern
until sunshine listens at spring
on grounds to lean on and learn
or when sunshine day breaks
when morning branches kiss
the May wind shakes me
in my own circled abyss,
as black and bluebirds wake
near a sponge of my ink drawing
or my statue turns into a fawn's head
by a pavilion with pigeons
resting here at the river bed
in the early hour of morning
under a flower awning by the shade
likened to a prisoner's door
at my den devoted solely to thinking
in a library's language corridor
hearing music's contrary cadences
of images,rhythms, mirages
amid sequins, prints,sequences
of sharing my poet lore's way
in perpetual apocalypse of motion
along wellspring delivering barges
nature offering me deliverance
here by a kingfishers gathering
of salamander in the swimming harbors
amid the surging waves of ocean
from spring to summer arbors
delivering us to salvage
motioning salmon, cod by jelly wings,
those fish in higher waters
with a behaving divining rod
sighting a huge bird
flying in the ocean air
embracing an albatross's wings
like Coleridge's or Baudelaire's
knowledge of bench work words
in an embarrassing amanuensis
of practicing on my French love letter
in this praxis and parenthesis
with good wishes out to Paris
by signing in as a witness
of romance as a son of Ovid
sings out his metamorphosis.