painting by elizabeth chapman
To lie in Auburn Summer
Dawn-lit lovers tell of Indian summers,
the name and shape of which are lost
to caresses of cabaret visions,
the Auburn night that host
beach-born indecision,
the look that chains that sky unto the post
between grains of fleshed collusion–
she sings still in toast,
to the figure of our delusion.
Chris Galford
Posted over on his site the Waking Den
Listed as #79 over on dVerse Poets--Open Link Night 26
1 comment:
Thanks for posting this, challenging imagery to connect,
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