Poetry – Page 20 – Psaltery & Lyre

At Summer’s Decline

my wife, / / rising from a dive, turning to me, / gathered the rare light and wore it.

Lemon sunlight stripes the hospital bed, / and morning chases off the lulling blues

And I expect a clattering of limbs, / the burning shriek of a horse / / suddenly sideways

my secret / footprints, / dark blue / hard metallic

Once there was a language of women. Once / there was script for / “world” and “womb” outside / the characters of men.

It’s only late in life you understand / sacrifice: the bees died trying / to save the blooming world.

You gathered lions around you, on your head and in your gilt clay heart. Like a grubby child collecting iridescent scarab shells in Jericho.

Save me from me / when I believe everything I think.

When the world goes / up in flame—even as the ash settles / to scar the skin—we go on in wonder