~Sophia~
07-12-2009, 11:27 PM
Summer Triangle
Turn thirty degrees
up there - in my hands
Aquila I have loved
the swan’s vulnerable curl
little phorminx still awake
who sings your Lillith-bye?
Incantations strapped to the ceiling fan
webs of savage lore, nobility at war,
forest flower constellations
reborn in flecks of sand - when vespers toll
a chorus of wings, a tug of stars, Chinatown
and chopsticks playing the triangle. In these
small ways I tame the rising sun.
Turn thirty degrees
up there - in my hands
Aquila I have loved
the swan’s vulnerable curl
little phorminx still awake
who sings your Lillith-bye?
Incantations strapped to the ceiling fan
webs of savage lore, nobility at war,
forest flower constellations
reborn in flecks of sand - when vespers toll
a chorus of wings, a tug of stars, Chinatown
and chopsticks playing the triangle. In these
small ways I tame the rising sun.