Philosophical Visitation #4

PHILOSOPHICAL VISITATION 4


The mop in the distance
That leans lasciviously on an oak
Has
Twisted blonde curl.

Has a hair band of copper.

I gaze at the mop,
Wondering if the eyes are green.
The hair untwist
Becomes long blonde straight hair,
Has pale blue eyes.

The hair band has leaped up to the moon,
The moon now wears a band of copper.

Copper flashes from the moon,
Speckles
With copper colors
Her long straight blonde hair.

I hurry towards the mop
That leans on the oak.

When I am close enough to reach,
To touch the hair,

I find no mop, only empty space.
There is a strand

Of straight blonde hair
Stuck in an oak bark crease.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Asian American Poetry