This poem came to life with a line of this song (French lyrics here), but went in a completely different direction. To those who don't know French: le silence est d'or=the silence is golden. To clarify, I don't actually know French myself.
__________
le silence est d'or
for those who skip across commas of cummings
like professional frogs in spring (rather than
loud autumn-dry hares), which est d'or.
le silence est d'or
for us woven in the picnic blanket under the sunbulb,
rejoicing ice cream though withering
through heat & age. The difference est d'or.
le silence est d'or
for her in the apple room the magritte
room the room for
sinners like eve like cain like god who est d'or.
le silence est d'or
for my lips, the horizontal icicle,
for my eyes, frozen ponds in waiting
to be broken.
le silence est d'or
watching your hair curl like a language
caught among the leaves,
returning into spring.
No comments:
Post a Comment