This is lovely, sure footed and very, very good. There is much more I could
say, but Many thanks sums it up.
Daniel.
----- Original Message -----
From: Marilyn Injeyan
To: [log in to unmask]
Sent: 18 October 2001 16:55
Subject: Burnished
Burnished
As the nuns next-door sing Matins,
trees materialize in the mist.
Unswathed from dark, I'm draped
in dew, hum an aubade to first light,
a sweet-lipped lilac, liquefied in gold.
At my footfall, along the walkway,
ants disband. Dashes dizzy the gray.
I simply step over their army,
since my house is not invaded. Moments
later, regrouped, they're on the march.
Bliss floats cascades of clouds.
Barefoot, with arms outstretched,
I prance and whirl on a crackling pile.
Leaves chatter honey, bronze, pumpkin,
and pomegranate, swirl and ripple in eddies.
I gather autumn to scatter upon the couch,
study Gothic traceries like tea leaves,
read their messages, tell fortunes, send
them to you in telepathy along the stream.
No need for smoke signals, shouts upon
the wind or bottles tossed into the sea.
I absorb a minimalist painting - Mondrian's
geometry in black, white and primaries.
At journey's end, a return receipt -
warmth emanates from the horizon
of your eyes. Vespers drift towards sunset
in copper and sangria, reconfiguring the room.
Marilyn Injeyan
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