My Face A White Fleur-Di- Lis Poem by Bernard Henrie
My Face A White Fleur-Di- Lis
Shining from saloon doors
a dive on 42nd Street,
passerby silhouetted perfectly
like a photo in Colliers.
A bowl of paraffin fruit rests
on a bureau, a banana
side by side with a cherry red
apple.
The clocks are all wrong here,
It is winter and time for nothing
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Topic(s) of this poem: clocks,winter
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8/29/2026 2:48:26 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
