Thursday, December 6, 2007

Marrying The House

Marrying The House
by Elizabeth Southwood

at the lovely sight,
she looks downhill
for the first time
through falling night,
sees pinpoints of gold,
lustrous as new wedding rings.
An endless veil
of flashing lights
flows below
the Milky Way
above the dark aisle
of the Bay.

The yolk-gold moon flings
saffron pearls
across the water
twice, once seen through,
once mirrored in,
tuxedo-black window

The bed is new
like the house and view,
with a puffy featherbed,
and, white as wedding cake,
a starched, lace-cotton spread.

She cannot sleep,
and nudges him
on warm, smooth skin,
feels a current
spring between them,
calming, soothing.

Morning paints
luxuriant leaves
on their bedroom windows,
cool green, with a drift
of thinning gold.
Dawn plays music,
spanking breeze
and chirping birds.

Enfolded by
a house their own,
they are content

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