a giddy wainscot, a torn curtain
that big flowered raises the dust;
you left stern-legged this place
and left me at a broken window,
so please do not turn around
Cerise clouds
picot
the mallows
edging
a wafer
of earth.
Distant mallards
volute the evening,
wainscot
the vault
of season--
a lattice
of lavalieres
mulling a sky
blanched as gin.
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