THE SONG OF THE AZURE CAMEO – MT ETNA

by on June 8, 2017 :: 0 comments

Now, finally, I want to carry the clear corn
Resurrected in my grandmother’s veil.
I want to place the selenium where
It must sustain the object
Of this most cautious of customs;
Retain forever the bread Host’s transmutation.

Smoke is rising from the chimney. I will.
Bounteous mother, treat our guests
To a wake of your finery. Figs,
I have gathered.
Tomatoes and crushed almonds!
Sweet yellow wine is to be shared with
The herdsman’s son,
The Carabinieri and those

From the grotto. Not wastrel nor saint
Should forget how you sang
And nurtured here. Concordantly, the eyelids
Will be covered by the palms of your
Confettied hospice. Crickets hum
In nearby thickets. At yuletide I’ll toss

The sachet of camomile into the lava’s
Compendium… then
Lay down
With the corn.
With the veil.

editors note:

Take what’s passed until we are past. – mh clay

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