Posy
I wonder what ether infuses consciousness
Why this delirium after last night’s show?
What’s in a name?
Oh how I’d watched her
Every skillful every reckless change of face
Every dancing change of pace
Her outrageous fling of clothes
from Flatbush
to Paris
Dominating every set of scrambled spangled disarray
She might have jigged the crown at old Bolshoi
No one would be aware
No one would care
Posy
Wild flower
All alone
I wonder at the indelible ghostly mix
In that face
Such delicacy
a breeze-filtered smoke
clouding my eyes
Or is it all in a name
Posy?
Copyright © Daver Austin | Year Posted 2009
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