Famous Poet Reciting
The famous poet, old, forgetful, almost blind -
your father, lady - chanted his poems,
breathed them alive;
but the cool splendour of your beauty
distracted my mind.
The words, by turn savage, amusing,
cool, then dry with heat,
marched in the room; the theme -
climbing the mountain, the hated boss.
the green of nightmare and the bird of war -
fruits of his mind ripened at last
into a final richness.
But none could match the starlight dark hair,
dark eyes, the lift of amusement at the mouth's corner
the slender hand and soft curve of the breast,
of you, poem of his body,
so delicately full and word-perfect.
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