Coronation Day Poem by Troy Cochran

I have for my own special knowing
one sweltering summer day:
a house without one painted wall
yet rooms enough
for all my furred and feathered guests to play.

For a bed
I have a low down place of green, green grass:
a king-size lay
beneath a roof of leafy shade:
an old oak tree with slender arms reaching out
to lift her party dress up to her lap
as if enjoying the stepping over me,
a very considerable tree.

For my hours
I have no more in mind than simply
taking a nap, for I am done with making journeys now;
yet find myself too much delaying,
eyelids drooping to their half-mast,
leaves rolling wavelets yet
never getting over me.

And farther out
I have for my afternoon read
a blue magazine opened up
from east to west,
laid out on my swelling chest,
pages blowing while I rest
from probing overlong into their deep
blue mysteries.

But for my crown,
circling round and round a mile overhead,
I have for my wonderment and coronation gown
the golden thread
of one majestic bird against a cloud
looking down upon the crowd
seeing much as I see now:

earthly facts laid bare as specks
beneath imagination's overlay.