On The Myrtle Of The Dais Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

On the myrtle of the dais
Marble and gold intertwined
And mixed site specific
And not
The beauties of the night
Of the last night
Fled with running feet
Of rapid stealth and
Sliding.

Where be the cross that
Hovered azure and blue
And yet deeper blue
According to the times
In the high trees tree-high?

That was of cemetery
And we must, we must,
Harp on cemeteries,
For there so much of time
And destiny
Of so many humans
Passed
Even though
Admit we Immortality