mare
a green eyed and reckless woman
like a mare with the blood up
floundering so in a marsh
muddied wildly stupidly
but filled with beauty as if it were a mark of innocence
like a blaze
the bending bow of evening
its red and flamboyant flame across the changing clouds of nearly yesterday
flashes amber-green upon a dawn somewhere on another ocean
proclaimers cup it twixt rocks and hands and eyes
this fugitive gold
regale it fools
with the sad osse of clever mouths
songs which forebode of melancholy
dejection break that arc of intuition
let there be march or moor no more
sky take our souls
and the mists of the night absorb our bodies essence
rivers carry the hoard and flavour of our blood to the gentle estuary
and let it down in sediment
for that is life when pessimism rules hope
when fear routs security
when the birds of joy fall to silence
and when the green eyed recklessness of woman
brings such prophesy
the fickle glow of early dawn
flickers in our naive eyes