Wednesday, April 04, 2007

Rounds

April come she will
When the floods subsided
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;
We sacrificed a lamb, then cooked it in a pit.
May, she will stay,
The flames reflected in the bottoms of the leaves.
Resting in my arms again.
Dancers in the glen circled the maple
June, she'll change her tune,
Then leapt upon our altar.
In restless walks she'll prowl the night
We ate meat with bare hands.
July, she will fly
Our priests poured wine into the stamped earth,
And give no warning to her flight.
then affixed our prayer to the leg of a finch,
August, die she must,
Who flew west, who flew
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;
To find another finch, another glen, anywhere
September I'll remember
But this place, where, fat with lamb,
A love once new has now grown old.
We could not sleep for the incessant rain.


"April, Come She Will", by Simon and Garfunkel.

3 comments:

twiffer said...

this is very nice august. likely intentional, but i can't help but think of the interwoven songs of scarbourough fair/canticle. i like how you tie the themes together.

twiffer said...

also, forgot to note that your poem is strong on its own right. the interwoven song is well chosen to enhance what you've writen.

Unknown said...

very nice!