A Dual

He intends to challenge you Has thrown down the gauntlet Vitriol the weapon, a face slap I am the go-between, the help-meet And spectator I sign treaties Running with the dawn Gunmetal grey mists Layer upon layer, a mille feux Shards of early motes Watered in pastels, shot silks Pale lilac and gold. Look at him pacing his own stage His small corner, his fifteen minutes He has poisoned me with innuendo Red matador words Lying in the long grass Whispering and keening Like a lover I am imprinted there And the bell tower clock leans and listens The long dark eye of the doe casts down The stricken north winds whine The curtain falls.