Untitled
Wake me
in paroxysms of twilight
Its soft voice
under the trees
Spent beams
quivering in a dim arc
above faded stone
Guide me
along moss-bejewelled
thoroughfares
heraldic frescoes
of silver and blue
Let me kneel at the river’s edge
rake my fingers
through incandescent loam
Wake me
where threadbare pennons
from gothic bowers dangle
Lift me
with mornings untamed requiem
Wake me
among the dead lamps reclusive bleeding
Wake me in the twilight.