Groundwork for a Coronation of the Soul

Milkweed plants and Queen Anne's lace
Mingle with the half-remembered face
Of youth unspent, seeking dissipation.

Statues clothed in greenleaf shade
Lend an air of antique sentiment
To my inward-spiralled argument.

Falcons circling above the glade
Follow movements on the ground—

Striking swifter than my thoughts,
Swifter than the sounds of hunted prey.

Beauty, by another name,
Dances in the shadows
Thrown back by the open flame.

I have not been keeping watch;
She will not accommodate neglect.

A patchwork quilt of close connexions
Spreads across the tumbled land.
I am but one ember burning
As the night folds up its hand.

©2016 Michael Fraley

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