For
Magpie Tales, rough draft. I think I'll call it "Fisher King."
knife, bowl, cloth
creased from disuse
grubby faces like cherubs' heads
await the miraculous
cure
sacred instruments
(sword, grail, shroud)
each planted
upon the altar
clouds rumble but do not
break fast
objects scattered
before the glacier-time
have been gathered
to table
who will draw first
the chalice to chapped lips?
drink?
seeds burst
juices flow
the waste land holds
its breath
|
Paul Gauguin, The Meal |
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Oh perfectly written. A very nice poem to go with such an inspiring painting!
ReplyDeleteA very pleasing piece of neo-Arthurian lore. Form fits content so well here.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, you two.
ReplyDelete