“Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
and Death shall have no Dominion.”
Dylan Thomas
Monet at Giverny
13-16 /16
13
fish aloft like birds
skimming wet sunshine
spring’s first swallow
rising from the depths
to snatch a golden note
quivering in the air
14
thunder raises dark ripples
lightning a forked tongue
insinuated into paradise
an apple tossed away
caution thrown over the shoulder
as sharp as salt
15
winds of change
that first bite
too bitter to remember
16
timeless this tide
this ebb and flow
oh great pond-serpent
biting yourself
forever
