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Rancor on the Veranda

I see nothing but pink plume and ink
In the lofty canopy above
The roof is raised with mist

And rust in my eyes 
and the old wreck of souls
Shouting Jazz melodies like tricks

The way this porch was raised
by Summer Sweat-Backs
Anticipating the eager tide

Of the long lost labour
of Coast Mainline Harbour poles
Broken Nets untied and umkempt

My Masterpiece belongs
at Sea
A Ship sent to Eternity

"The Constant Work of Man"
Sorrowed to Travail
Being fished by the Whale

With Jonah's reticence
I bemoan Nineveh's wailing tides
And grow with the Sand

Dali came to me once
in the repose of Dream
With unexpected charm

Amidst reliquary code:
Growing up and away the hoop
The tree anchored to my soul
Had Been Lifted

Copyright © LeRoy Baker

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