Thursday, August 16, 2012

and when she lifted her legs it was as if
she wanted to balance the moon  on her toes to keep it from falling
but I knew all along it was the black cloud that needed to stay in place
and so in that county where I was once and now and will be before I was
where I spoke the words holy  holy holy Lord God Almighty all the earth
is full of Thy glory where the whistling swans ride the backs of the white
horses of the river where the boxcars and skiffs are full
of drunken troubadours where once I did lay awhile longer the pavane
of whippoorwills while the pall bearers are strutting in the ceremonies
of my sleep the passing bell nodding like a snake charmer all far
past way deep behind the woods down the  road where I saw that lightning bug
in  the country where my  dreams are like bark
peeled off by lightning  I was with her the girl  with black  hair
while the wolf had the moon by the throat
I said I love you in  the field of honor
and she  was like a colt
and she was water I  held in  my hands
and she was the canoe I worked through the river
ans she was the flash at two-thirty in the morning of  the suicidal knife
and she was  a fire of pine cones who ran like a deer
and she was a butterfly that lit on the float of  my  pole
and she was  the night herself
she was the cape I drew over my body

frank stanford