Dawn Of The Light-Spun Ear Poem by NIGEL LESMOIRGORDON

THROUGH COOLING ROWS OF MIRRORS
The frozen cheeks of children spoon the air
With mandrake callings
Grim intracted products breaking
Membranes off the waves.

ANOTHER A IS COMING
Through the breeze electric blueness
Once and forever
Daughter of the stone tomb
Bearer of man the womb choosing
Misty swirl - blossom of morning light
Lunge in the cave of day.

MIST OF SPIDER-BLEACHING SHADOWS
Parade of the flower-bed veils
Drop of ancient autumn
Mistress of the pilot's eye
Spinning messages through trees.

GRASP IT. GRASP IT
Be seen above the bee's quick turnings
Make gold the apple's greenness
Silent churchyards in the green and graying town
Through peoples' eyes the seven dreams come leaping
A shadow of a letter from a friend's dismembered hands
Unbroken by the voicing of his echoes.

MYSELF I NEVER KNEW THE WAXY LEAVES OF BEING
Grow dream and pipe design
Grow sharp and to a vision of a dance
That enters mind of another body/brain
Slighted and distilled until that time
Goodbyes and paper greetings shuffle
WILD THINGS AWAIT THEIR TURN.