A Trinity Riddle
by Carter Revard
I spread, descending, a samite of stars.
White fingers bring me for breakfast Mont Blanc,
and I develop on earth's negative
the prints proving a presence absent.
Rainbow-dancing, my restless soft-self
teaches the sun at his summer turn to
reprise in dawn-prisms the light-praise of plants,
or stars in winter the still song-homes
with brittle jewels dropped bright from darkness,
or shifts my shape to a shimmering self-trap.
NOW Speak, if you spy it, the spECIal name
I bear in spring when I baRE TAWdry alleys
to wear till dawn night-diamonds, till dusk the jewel of time.
Copyright © Carter Revard, 1992.
First published in Cowboys and Indians, Christmas Shopping.
Reprinted by permission.
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