The joys of irony
Summer is the only sea I know
And the summer of seas fell under
Sharp spears of light. There is
Only one road in sight. Not of my
Making, and unknown by you. The seashore
Falls. Skies blaze
Over love's moribund countenance.
Eyes surcingle a stream of light. The sweat
Of yesterdays rises in me. Sing of
Silence and winter, and of elm trees,
For the way is unknown.
I have seen your other expression: the fire
In your hair and your thighs. Your lion
Of body roars in my bones. Waves fall
Onto waves, before returning
To the site of forgetting.
It is always tomorrow
When white apricot trees bloom.
The autumn where you have once been
Is now a deep valley. Banks grow
And the sky sleeps on
Slumped over the dying face
Of your love.